


You Me Him

by sunken_ships (sunken__ships)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Bisexual John, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gay Sex, Getting Together, HOPE YOU LIKE SLOW BURNS, M/M, Multi, Penis In Vagina Sex, Polyamory, Sexual Content, THIS BURN IS REAL SLOW, Threesome - F/M/M, alex and eliza are 34 and john is 21, based heavily on netflix's 'you me her', herc and eliza do yoga together and gossip, john laurens has the Ultimate Millenial Kink (stable jobs and promising careers)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 16:05:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 34,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9910481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunken__ships/pseuds/sunken_ships
Summary: Alexander and Eliza Hamilton are happily married. They have been for many years. But when they want to try to start a family, there's just one problem - neither of them want to have sex anymore. They're busy; it's boring.Alexander's brother James suggests he 'try out' someone new to get him inspired and to reignite the flame.And that's where John Laurens - full-time college student, part-time escort - comes in.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! so idk if y'all have watched 'You Me Her' on netflix but i'd strongly recommend doing that asap bc it's a cute fluffy romcom about a poly relationship!! and they don't make it weird or anything!! but like i said in the tags this is strongly based on that so if you don't want any spoilers i'd recommend watching that first. or don't. (please read this.)  
> it's been a hot minute since i've been inspired enough to not only write, but upload. it's still currently a WIP, so updates may be a little erratic (especially since uni is starting next week, jesus christ almighty).  
> hope you enjoy! xx

     Alexander and Eliza Hamilton stared blankly at their therapist. A few seconds ticked by.

     “I’m sorry, what?” Alexander said eventually.

     “You said you wanted to try for children again–”

     “We do,” Eliza cut in, smiling happily, nodding to her husband, who smiled and nodded back.

     “Yes,” the therapist said. “As I was saying, you said you wanted to try for children again, therefore I believe the next logical question is: how many times a week are you having intercourse?”

     Alexander took a breath in. “Well, uh, I think – I mean–”

     “We’ve been pretty busy,” Eliza offered.

     “Yeah, super busy,” Alexander said. “I mean, we’re at work all day, and then we come home and we’re just so tired–”

     “ _So_ tired,” Eliza added.

     “–and then on the weekends–”

     “I have things to work on,” Eliza said. “And–”

     “Me too.”

     “–and yoga – I have yoga on Saturdays.”

     “I don’t have yoga.”

     “Yeah.”

     “It’s just – I mean…” Alexander looked to his wife. “We still… Right? We still–”

     “Oh yeah, definitely,” Eliza said, her head bobbing up and down. “We’re not, y’know, one of those couples–”

     “One of those couples that – that _don’t_ ,” Alexander said with a laugh.

     Eliza laughed as well. “No way.”

     “I mean I’d say we… we…”

     “We, um, _have intercourse_ maybe…”

     “Once a–” Alexander glanced at his wife, and changed his mind. “Maybe twice a…”

     “Maybe five – six? Six times a month?” Eliza offered.

     “Six?” Alexander agreed, nodding, looking to the therapist. “Maybe seven. That’s…”

     “That’s the – the norm, right?” Eliza said.

     “The norm,” Alexander seconded. “We’re pretty… normal, in that regard, I think. Do you think?”

     “Yeah. Yep. Totally.”

     They smiled at their therapist.

     The therapist didn’t smile back. “Okay. So, then, it seems you’re on the right path.”

     “Great!” Eliza said.

     “That’s great,” Alexander said. “Can’t wait.”

     The therapist smiled. It seemed a little forced. “Well, if that’s all – contact me when you want another session.”

     “Most definitely,” Alexander said, rising. Eliza followed suit. “One hundred percent. We’ll get right on that.”

     “But I don’t think we’ll be in need of your services for a while,” Eliza said playfully. They both shook the therapist’s hand.

     “Things seem to be going great,” Alexander said brightly.

 

     “Things are not going great,” Eliza said helplessly.

     Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette-Mulligan – or Lafayette for short – and his husband Hercules Lafayette-Mulligan gave Alexander and Eliza disbelieving looks. “You… lied to your sex therapist about how many times you’re having sex?” Hercules said.

     “Yes,” Alexander said. “We didn’t wanna…”

     “Seem weird,” Eliza finished.

     “Why the fuck would you do that?” Lafayette said.

     “We were put on the spot,” Alexander said.

     “You went to a sex therapist about having children,” Hercules said. He shook his head. “Jesus Christ. You guys are hopeless.”

     “It’s not… We still love each other,” Alexander said.

     “But we’re just not… not feeling it anymore,” Eliza said.

     “Why are you talking to _us_ about this and not your sex therapist?” Lafayette said. He waved his hand dismissively. “Just… go. Go have sex. Now.”

     Alexander and Eliza pouted.

     Hercules shooed them away. “Go.”

     They shuffled home. The Lafayette-Mulligans only lived opposite them, which made the shuffle relatively shame-free, as it wasn’t exactly a long shuffle.

     Lafayette and Hercules watched them with a mixture of pity and mild discomfort. “They’re like two old people,” Lafayette said “Look at them.”

     Hercules turned him away. “Shh, sweetheart, don’t watch. It’s okay. Don’t watch.”

 

     That night, while they were cooking dinner, an idea popped into Alexander’s head. He went over to Eliza where she was chopping red peppers, trying his best to imitate what he thought a ‘sexy walk’ would look like. He went up behind her. “Hey,” he murmured into her ear, sliding his hands around her waist.

     Eliza jumped, and accidentally elbowed Alexander in the stomach. Alexander yelped. “Oh, sorry, love,” Eliza said, turning around. “What were you doing?”

     “Nothing,” Alexander said quickly, slinking away. “I – nothing.”

     Later that night, the two of them were sitting in bed, watching TV. An idea popped into Eliza’s head. She leant over, and started kissing her husband’s neck. Alexander pulled away. “What – honey, I’m trying–”

     Eliza sat up. “What?”

     Alexander gestured to the TV. “I’m just…” He blinked at Eliza’s slightly irritated expression. “It’s a – It’s a really good episode,” he said in a small voice.

     Eliza sighed. “Sure. Sorry.”

     A few minutes later, she tried again, sliding her hand down Alexander’s stomach to grope for his dick. Alexander jolted, flinching away. “Betsey, c’mon. It’s a good episode.”

     “Don’t you think we should at least try?” Eliza said.

     Alexander sighed. “Yeah, I guess. I guess I can… I can pause the episode.” He reached for the remote and paused the TV, and then turned to Eliza. “All right, let’s… let’s _do this_.”

     Eliza laughed, and Alexander stopped. “What?”

     “What was that?” Eliza said.

     “That what?”

     “That – that voice. ‘ _Let’s do this_ ’.”

     “That was my sexy voice.”

     “Sexy voice?”

     “Do you not–”

     “How is that sexy?”

     “–find that sexy? You don’t find that sexy?”

     Eliza laughed louder. “No,” she said. She pulled her husband in for a kiss on the lips. “I love you, but that was terrible.”

     Alexander looked a little offended. “Well, okay, I won’t do the sexy voice.”

     “Okay,” Eliza said, still chuckling.

     “Just – come here.” Alexander pulled her in for a kiss. It was fine for a minute or so, but then Eliza turned away, snorting a laugh.

     “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she giggled.

     “Was it really that bad?” Alexander said.

     Eliza nodded. “Yes,” she said.

     “Is this still – even if I don’t do the sexy voice–”

     “I don’t think this is gonna work, I’m sorry, honey.” Eliza pecked Alexander on the lips.

     “Okay, well, I’m gonna go to bed now.”

     “Okay.” Trying to smother her smile, Eliza took her husband’s hand. “I love you.”

     “I love you too.” Alexander squeezed Eliza’s hand, and they both lay down. Eliza switched off her bedside lamp, Alexander turned off the TV, and they both fell asleep facing opposite ends of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know how you find reading the dialogue! i know it's choppy but that's kinda the point. it's a COMPLETELY new style for me, but i really like the overlapping dialogue in the show, so i was hoping i could try to convey that through writing. i find it really fun to write.  
> thanks so much for reading! xx


	2. Chapter 2

     “You lied to your sex therapist?”

     Alexander shushed his older brother violently. “Just announce it to the whole world, why don’t you.”

     James sipped at his coffee. “So let me get this straight: you and the wife–”

     “‘The wife’? Don’t – don’t call her that.”

     “–are having troubles in the bedroom, you seek professional help, and then you shoot that opportunity in the face by pretending there’s not actually anything wrong?”

     Alexander breathed out, watching his breath curl up into the chilly morning air. “That’s, um, the long and short of it, yeah.”

     James considered this. “I had similar problems, you know.”

     Alexander squinted in suspicion. “Really?”

     “Oh yeah.” James took another sip. “A few years back. Mary and I were struggling to have kids. The passion was gone. She was tired all the time, I couldn’t keep it up–”

     Alexander pulled a face. “Ugh, did you have to tell me that?”

     “–and we only had sex, like, once every couple of weeks. And it wasn’t even _good_ sex, it was trying-to-make-a-baby sex.”

     Alexander hummed in agreement into his takeaway coffee cup. He knew all about that.

     “But then I came up with a solution.”

     Alexander looked to his brother. “What? If you’re about to tell me it’s some pill or some kind of herb–”

     “Shut up, you know it’s not.”

     “How would I know? You said you have some miraculous–”

     “You think I’m one of _those_ people?”

     “–cure for having great sex again, I don’t know.”

     James rolled his eyes. “Can you just – just shut up, for, like, one second?”

     Alexander gestured vaguely. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

     James took a drink, and then said, “I hired an escort.”

     Alexander screwed up his face in disbelief. He stared at James for a good few seconds.

     James held up his free hand in defence. “Now, before you say anything–”

     “An _escort_? What, like, a hooker? You hired a hooker?”

     “No, an escort. There’s a difference.”

     Alexander snorted. “A difference. Of course.”

     “Mary never knew about it. Super discreet. Just one evening, boom. Fixed everything. I was back in the game.”

     “You sicken me.”

     “Why?”

     Alexander breathed out sharply. “Why? _Why_? Because you – you cheated on Mary with a hooker–”

     “An _escort_.”

     “–and you’re encouraging me to do the same.”

     “I’m just saying–”

     “But with my wife. Not with Mary.”

     “I’m just saying, give it a shot. I guarantee it’ll work, but if it doesn’t, then no harm done. Eliza will never know, either way. And it worked for me. Now I have a daughter. Sure, she’s a pain in my ass and will be till the day I die, but the wife’s happy.”

     “Don’t–”

     “What?”

     “Don’t…” Alexander sighed. “Don’t call Mary ‘the wife’. Or Eliza. Just say their names.”

     “You’re a pansy, you know that?”

     “What, I’m a pansy for wanting to call our wives by their actual names?”

     “Jesus Christ.”

     “Who even says ‘pansy’ anymore?”

     James looked ready to strange himself with his own scarf. “For fuck’s sake, Alex, just shut the fuck up.”

     “You don’t have the moral high ground here,” Alexander insisted.

     James shook his head and walked off.

     “You’re an asshole!” Alexander yelled after him. People around him gave him odd looks. “That’s my brother,” Alexander explained hastily to the mother and child walking past.

     Great start to the morning.

 

     That day, at work, Alexander found himself with time to spare and a computer right before him.

 _Don’t do it_ , he thought to himself. _God fucking damn it, don’t you fucking dare. I swear to God_ –

     He found himself googling escorts in the local area.

 

     “You’re quiet,” Eliza remarked over dinner.

     “I did something bad,” Alexander blurted.

     Eliza put down her knife and fork. “What?”

     Alexander rubbed his temple. “I, uh, I spoke to James today, about our little… problem.”

     “You talked to your brother about our sex life?”

     “And he said he’d had the same issue a while back–”

     “What kind of siblings…”

     “–and he said the way to resolve it is to – I mean, the way _he_ resolved it was to hire an escort.”

     Eliza took a moment to process this. “You’re joking.”

     Alexander winced. “No. I’m not.”

     “So, what, you went and booked one?”

     “No, no, I didn’t do that–”

     “But you thought about it?”

     “I may have done some googling.”

     Eliza didn’t look impressed. “Some googling.”

     Alexander cringed. “At work,” he added in a small voice.

     “At _work_? You looked up local hotties in your area at _work_? You are the assistant dean! What if someone finds out?”

     “I was – I was just looking!”

     “And how the hell is hiring a prostitute–”

     “Not a prostitute. An escort.”

     “–supposed to fix whatever the hell is going on between us?”

     Alexander held up his hands in a shrug. “I dunno! James just said that it worked. It, y’know, inspired him, I guess.”

     Eliza bored her gaze into Alexander. “And what did Mary have to say about that?”

     Alexander fell quiet. “He… never told her.”

     Eliza leant forward sharply. “He _never told her_?”

     “And he told me not to tell you.”

     “Like _hell_ you wouldn’t tell me!”

     “Exactly! That’s why I’m telling you now!”

     “But not before you did some googling.”

     “It was harmless googling!”

     “So?” Eliza crossed her arms. “Which one are you going to pick?”

     Alexander pulled back abruptly. “Whi– What?”

     “Which one were you googling?”

     “Why do you want to know?”

     “Because I want to know.” She got up and fetched her laptop from the coffee table, and handed it to Alexander. “Go on.”

     Alexander felt a blush crawl up his neck. “I really don’t think–”

     “Show me.”

     Wishing he could shrink until he blinked out of existence, Alexander looked up the website he’d been browsing earlier in the day, and handed the laptop back to Eliza.

     Eliza regarded the webpage, and then gave the laptop back. “I said _which one_ , not _which website_.”

     Alexander’s ears were hot. And so were his cheeks. His whole body felt uncomfortably warm. His shoulders hunched, he clicked on a profile.

     “That one,” he said.

     Eliza took the laptop back and stared at the screen. She had a slight crease between her brows, and she studied the image in front of her intently.

     After a while, she sat back with a sigh. “Well?” she said. She looked to Alexander. “Do you wanna do this or not?”

     Alexander’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. “ _What_?”

     “I said, do you want to do this, or not?”

     “I know that’s what you said, I just meant–”

     “I mean, if your brother said it worked–”

     “Oh, now you _like_ my brother?”

     “I just think it’d be worth a try, that’s–”

     “You know it costs money, right?”

     “–all I’m saying.” Eliza cocked her head. “Do you not want to do this? Because, if I recall–”

     “I wasn’t saying–”

     “–just before you said you were doing your own personal research. At work.”

     Alexander ran his hands over his hair. Eliza had changed her mind so quickly, he felt like he was suffering from whiplash. “Do you…” He looked between the laptop screen and his wife. “Are you serious right now?”

     Eliza shrugged. “I want a baby. And whatever we’re doing now isn’t working.”

     Alexander gazed at her in shock, and let his hands drop. “But, honey, that’s…” He lowered his voice. “That’s cheating.”

     Eliza huffed a laugh. “It’s only cheating when I say it’s cheating. This isn’t cheating. This is… for us. For our future. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made.”

     Alexander couldn’t believe his ears. “Are you sure?”

     “Yes,” Eliza said instantly. She handed the laptop to him. “Now book it, before I change my mind.”

     Alexander fumbled for his phone, and typed in the number. “Should it – Tomorrow, or the weekend, or–”

     “Tomorrow,” Eliza said. “Get it over and done with.”

     Alexander, his heart racing, texted the number. “Does it bother you that it’s a guy?” he asked gingerly, his thumb hovering over the ‘send’ button.

     Eliza picked up her knife and fork again and continued eating. “Not at all,” she said. “I’ve known you’re bisexual for years.”

     “Yeah, but–”

     “And no, I don’t think that you’re changing your mind about me.” She smiled softly at her husband. “I love you, Alexander. I love every part of you. And if you like dick, well, that’s just a part of you, too.”

     Alexander choked on his own spit. “Betsey…”

     Eliza took Alexander’s phone off him and pressed ‘send’. “There we go,” she said cheerily, setting the phone down.

     Still in a bit of a daze, Alexander nodded, and picked up his knife and fork.

     “The only bit that bothers me is that he’s so young,” Eliza said off-handedly.

     Alexander froze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know how you're finding it! i'm really loving writing this atm, so i hope you like it as much as i do! and don't worry, John is finally making an appearance in the next chapter ;) xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey! guess who we ~finally~ get to meet this chapter? ;)))

_T-minus eight hours until the appointment._ Alexander couldn’t sit still. He was constantly fidgeting. Whenever a student walked into his office – despite most of the visits being ones that he scheduled himself – he jumped.

He kept glancing at his phone. Re-reading the exchange of texts from the night before.

_Is this Chase? Can I book an appointment with you tomorrow?_

_Hi there! What time were you interested in? And can I have a name, please?_

_Yes. Ben Adams._

Alexander had stressed over that one; whether to give his real name or not. He’d decided against it. He was wanting to become to dean one day, after all.

_Yes. Ben Adams. 6pm? Is that ok for you?_

_Yeah, I have 6pm free. Just an hour?_

_Yes._

_Great! And where would you like to meet?_

_Hotel Lucia? The one downtown?_

_Just send me an address. And don’t forget the cash ;) Book a room for me and let me know the details._

“Excuse me?”

Alexander jumped for the millionth time that day, pushing his phone off his knee onto the floor like a high school student who’d been caught texting in class. “Yes, uh, how can I help you?”

The student blinked at him. “Uh, I went to see the dean, but he’s not in?”

Still feeling flustered, Alexander checked the time, and then his calendar, and realised neither of those things would help. “Um, did you book an appointment with him?”

“Yeah,” the student said. “But his secretary wasn’t there, either.”

“Oh, okay. Lemme just…” He called the dean’s office.

The dean answered. “Alexander?”

“Yeah, hi. Um, there’s a student here to see you? They said you have an appointment booked, but they said Martha’s not there?”

“What?”

Alexander heard the dean rising from his seat, and opening and closing a door again. “She must’ve gone to the bathroom. Just send the student my way.”

“All right. Thank you, Dean Washington.”

“For the last time, Alexander, just call me George.”

Alexander wanted to punch himself in the face. “Yep. George. Got it. Okay. Bye. Have – have a nice day.” He put the phone down, closed his eyes for a moment, gathering himself, and then smiled at the student. “He’s there. Just let yourself in.”

The student gave him a strange look, but thanked him, and left his office.

Alexander sighed, letting his head hit the edge of the table and staring at his shoes, and his phone on the ground.

 

Alexander stood in front of the hotel door. Number 308. Just an ordinary number. An ordinary door.

_This is stupid_ , he thought to himself. _This is so fucking stupid. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Why_ am _I doing this? Because I can’t turn my wife on and need someone to help me? I can turn my wife on. We’ve been married for thirteen years. This is bullshit._

He fumbled for his phone and opened the message thread with the escort he’d hired. “Sorry for the late notice,” Alexander said to himself under his breath as he typed, “but something came up at work, and I can’t make it tonight. I’ll contact you later for payment. Sorry to waste your time. Ale–” He shook his head and backspaced. “Ben.”

Just as he pressed ‘send’, the hotel door opened.

Alexander didn’t think it was possible for his heart to sink and soar at the same time, but somehow it managed. It made him feel nauseous. “Oh,” he said weakly.

“Ben Adams?” said the young man before him. The very attractive young man.

Chase.

“Uh…”

There was a soft _ding_ from behind Chase, and he turned around, heading over to the bed. “Come on in,” he said easily over his shoulder.

Alexander stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

Chase held up his phone, giving Alexander a confused, but politely amused, look. “It looks to me like you can make it just fine,” he said.

Alexander had no comeback to that. “That, uh…” He gestured vaguely to Chase’s phone. “I – well–”

Chase chuckled. “Yeah, well, I don’t know what kind of cancellation policy you think I have, but this is just a _little_ too late notice, I’m afraid.”

Alexander felt his stomach swoop at the sight of Chase’s smile. _Oh boy_. “Yeah, no, I didn’t…”

Chase sat down heavily on the end of the bed, the picture of comfort and ease in his black jeans and maroon button-down, his dark curls bouncing around his head. He raised his eyebrows expectantly at Alexander. “So? What did you want to start with this evening?”

Alexander felt his whole body blush, stupidly. “I…” He gripped the strap of his messenger bag. “I think – I should precede this by – by saying, um, this isn’t… what it looks like? I’m not, y’know, some bored husband who’s cheating on his wife, or some guy who’s secretly gay or whatever – I’m not, what I’m saying is, I _am_ – well, I’m not _gay_ –” Alexander stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose. This explanation wasn’t going well. “Jesus, that sounds like I’m trying to deny it.” He sighed, and dropped his hand, trying again. “I’m bisexual. Happily, openly bisexual. Not that that – I’m sure you don’t care whether I’m gay or bi or some straight guy looking to try something new or whatever. But, well, my wife and I…”

Chase stood up and went over to the corner of the room, pulling over the stool closer to the bed. “Do you wanna sit down?” he offered. “You just seem kinda…” He pulled an exaggerated awkward face.

Alexander gulped in some air, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” He shrugged off his jacket and sat down on the stool, and, on second thought, took off his messenger bag, putting it beside him, with his jacket on top. Chase watched him with keen eyes – keen _green_ eyes, those are some nice eyes – and a small smile on his freckled face.

Under his gaze, Alexander felt himself start to sweat. _Gee, sweating, that’s attractive_ , he thought to himself in frustration. He took off his tie, undoing the top button, and unbuttoned his sleeves, pulling them up to the elbow.

“What were you saying about your wife?” Chase said.

Alexander nodded. “Right. My wife. We’ve been trying to have a baby for a while? And it’s not really working, because, y’know…” He gestured vaguely, and Chase frowned a little, not really picking up what Alexander was putting down.

“Because you…” Chase’s frown deepened. “…have an erectile dysfunction?”

Alexander’s eyes went wide. “ _No_ , no no no, that’s not what I’m – because we’re not feeling, y’know, like, sexy? Neither of us really _want_ to have sex? It just seems more like a chore. It didn’t used to,” he added hastily. “Neither of us are asexual, and we both have moderate sex drives.” He closed his eyes, screwing up his nose. “Too much information. Sorry.”

He opened his eyes to find Chase grinning at him, and his heart thudded loudly in his ribcage. “Dude, you need to chill out,” Chase said with another laugh. “Okay, so, like, you and your wife aren’t feeling the vibe anymore, cool. So how do you want me to help you with that?”

“Um, I don’t really… know,” Alexander confessed. “My br– uh, someone I know just said that it helped them, to hire an escort.”

Chase considered this. “Okay,” he said. He reached for his bag next to the bed, and pulled out some miniature bottles of vodka. “My roommate hoards these,” he explained, “whenever she goes on flights. And she also buys them in bulk in the duty free bit, coz they’re cheaper.” He held one out to Alexander. “Want to start?”

Alexander opened and closed his mouth in surprise. Talk about go big or go home. “Can we – is there something in the bar fridge?” He stood up and went over, and, sure enough, there was a small bottle of white wine. He took it out and grabbed the two wine glasses sitting by the TV. “Do you like white wine?”

“If you’re paying for it, I love it,” Chase said with a grin, reaching for a wine glass.

Alexander sat down and opened the bottle, pouring Chase and himself a glass each.

“So, Ben,” Chase said, “what do you do?”

Alexander was confused for a moment, and then blew a raspberry. “Oh, um, that’s not my, uh, my actual name.”

“Oh.”

“It’s Alexander. Hamilton?”

“No, that’s cool, lots of–”

“I – well, I work for a college, and I didn’t want–”

“–people do that, for, y’know, work–”

“–work finding out or anything.”

“–and whatever. Yeah, exactly.” Chase took a sip of his wine. “My name’s not Chase.” He shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t usually tell clients that.”

“No, no, that’s okay,” Alexander said, feeling oddly proud of himself. He was _special_.

Chase shook his head again, like he couldn’t believe himself. “I’m… My name’s John.” He laughed a little. “I don’t tell clients my real name. I don’t know why…”

“John,” Alexander repeated, and John looked at him like he liked the sound of his name coming from Alexander’s mouth.

There was a moment of tense silence. Alexander felt like he was back in college again, flirting with some hot piece of ass he'd come across at a bar. And boy, did he love it. He’d missed that feeling.

Chase – no, John – glanced down at his wine glass. “You work for a college?”

“Um, yeah.” Alexander considered telling him which school, but decided against it. “I’m the assistant dean.”

John nodded in approval. “Nice. I study psychology.”

Alexander felt some of the air rush out of him at the stark reminder of how young this kid was. “Oh,” he said, trying to sound interested, and not like he was going through another internal crisis. “How – how old did you say you were?”

John gave him a knowing smile. “Twenty-one.”

Alexander didn’t know how to respond to that, so he took a gulp of his wine.

John’s smile turned into a smirk that did all kinds of things to Alexander. “And what about you? Would you say you’re young for a dean-to-be, or about the right age?”

Alexander gave him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

John shrugged. “Nothing,” he said mildly.

“I’m – I’m young,” Alexander added. “Ish. Not as young as… Well, I’m not old. I’m not even – my wife and I are trying for kids. And you – you can’t do that if you’re old.”

John grinned into his wine glass. “If you say so,” he murmured in a sing-song voice.

Alexander chuckled. “I’m _not_!” he protested petulantly.

“I never said you were!”

Alexander laughed.

The hour wore on. The more alcohol Alexander drank – not that he was drunk, mind you; barely tipsy – he more relaxed he became, and the more the stories flowed.

John seemed to open up more as well. He hadn’t had nearly as much to drink as Alexander, but whatever professional façade he’d adopted for the session faded away.

And Alexander found himself… _liking_ him. On more that just a level of physical attraction. John was witty and bright and bold. All things that Alexander admired. Not to mention that damn smile.

Alexander could have spent all night with him. But then John glanced at the time, and he winced. “Oh, uh, time’s nearly up.”

“What?” Alexander checked his phone. Six fifty-four. “Oh, shit,” he hissed.

“No, no, it’s okay,” John said, sweeping the bottles of alcohol – most still unopened, but one or two empty – back into his bag, cleaning up the mess. “It’s fine, we can just–”

“We haven’t even–”

“–do something now, if you–”

“I’m sorry.”

“–want to. Don’t apologise.” John rose, took the nearly-empty mini bottle of vodka from Alexander’s grasp and set it aside, then took Alexander’s hands, pulling him to his feet. “If there’s anything you wanna do, you should probably… do it now.”

Alexander nodded. “Right. Yeah.”

John sat on the edge of the bed again, and Alexander sat down beside him.

Alexander took a breath. _Okay. Okay. Just… do it. Just kiss him. It’s not rocket science_.

John looked at him expectantly. “Do you want me to…?”

Alexander grimaced. “Sorry, I just–”

“It’s fine,” John said with a laugh. “Really. Don’t stress.”

Alexander let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay. I’m fine. I’m cool. Okay.”

He adjusted his ponytail, which made John bite his lip, trying not to laugh again.

Alexander’s eyes flicked down to John’s lips. John shuffled closer.

There was a beat, then another, and then John leant in, pressing his lips to Alexander’s.

Alexander kissed back, his pulse leaping erratically.

John pulled back a little. “Was that okay?” he whispered.

Alexander nodded, already leaning in again. “Yeah. Yep.” He kissed John, and John responded enthusiastically. Alexander’s hand reached up to cup John’s face, and John’s hand gripped onto Alexander’s shirt.

The kiss rapidly became more heated, tongues brushing, the taste of alcohol on lips. John moved back to lie down on the bed and Alexander crawled after him, and started fiddling with the buttons on John’s shirt. After a few seconds he gave up and tugged sharply, sending buttons flying. He broke away, realising what he’d done. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I’ll pay for a new one.”

John pulled him back, saying breathlessly, “It’s fine, it’s fine,” before reconnecting their lips.

Alexander ran his hands over John’s now bare torso, moaning at the feeling of hard muscle where he was used to soft curves. John began unbuttoning Alexander’s shirt, reaching up to kiss Alexander’s throat as he did so.

It was then that Alexander’s brain kicked into gear, and started making sense.

_This is wrong_.

He tore himself away, backing up, noticing that John had managed to get all the buttons undone in record time. “I’m sorry,” he blurted.

John sat up, his hair scruffy and his lips swollen. That, coupled with his shirt hanging loose, revealing his smooth olive skin, made him appear like some kind of modern Greek god, or maybe something out of a fashion magazine. Or a porn magazine.

“Oh, God,” Alexander said, either in reaction to him deciding to not sleep with the gorgeous specimen of a human being in front of him, or in reaction to him considering even doing it in the first place.

“Wh – what?” John said, breathing heavily.

Alexander reached for his messenger bag and his jacket. He did some buttons up on his shirt as best he could – they were done wonkily, but it didn’t matter – and pulled his jacket on, all the while babbling, “I’m so sorry, John, you’re really great, you are, you’re, wow, _really_ great, but I just can’t, I don’t – I’m sorry, let me just…” He grabbed the wad of cash out of his bag and thrust it into John’s hands. “I’m pretty sure there’s extra in there; should pay for the shirt.”

“Wait,” John said, “Alexander, what–”

But Alexander had already fled out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> random fact: i googled hotels in oregon, where the show (and consequently this fic) is set, and Hotel Lucia is a real hotel. and it's downtown. that's all i know about it.  
> the martha that alexander mentioned as being george washington's secretary is his wife (although i haven't decided whether they're married in this story... i just needed a character name lmao). this is Relevant Information bc there's another Martha in this story, who you haven't met yet, and i want to avoid confusion (apparently there was only like 5 names back then?? we white people are woefully unimaginative)  
> thank u so much for reading! next chapter is john's pov - get excited, woo xx


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John's POV! :)

     John Laurens had been in the game for a while. He was experienced. So when he got a text from an unknown number saying, _Is this Chase? Can I book an appointment with you tomorrow?_ , with absolutely no other information, he wasn’t phased. And so an appointment was set up.

     John was sitting in his lecture, keeping diligent notes, as always, when his best friend and roommate, Martha Manning, started making her way over, stepping over knees and on toes as she made her way to the seat that John had saved for her. She sat down with a huff, flicking her black, curled hair out of her face.

     John didn’t even bother looking at her. This was the norm. Martha would arrange an appointment in the morning, rock up to class with ten minutes left of that class, and then take John’s notes.

     After a few moments, Martha slapped his arm. “Hey,” she whispered.

     John looked at her. “What?”

     Martha held out her hands. “Um, hello? I look like a high school cheerleader, and you say nothing?”

     John glanced at her outfit. She did look like a high school cheerleader, in a way. But maybe one from the nineties. It was more of a vibe of a cheerleader than an actual look. A Letterman jacket, a short skirt and tight top. Hair tied up in a perky high pony with a ribbon. A choker.

     John raised an eyebrow at her. “You think I’d be surprised that fifty-something-year-old men have a thing for high school cheerleader look?”

     Martha gave him a withering look. “Whatever. At least it wasn’t the whole ‘Japanese schoolgirl’ thing.”

     John pulled a face at her. “You’re not even Japanese. You’re Vietnamese.”

     Martha gave him the look again. “Exactly.”

     Without hesitation, she took John’s notes from his hand and started reading over them. John clicked his tongue at her and took them back. “I’ll give them to you after class,” he muttered.

     Martha sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Idiot went overtime,” she said. “I tell my clients, _especially_ my morning ones: I can’t go overtime. I don’t get paid for overtime. I don’t _want_ to go overtime. But _no_ , he just took an especially long time to come today.”

     John had to smother a laugh. The person sitting on Martha’s other side gave her a bewildered look. She ignored them.

     She sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “You have an appointment tonight, right?”

     John rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mattie, I do, but right now I’m in class, so could you shut up for ten minutes? Just ten minutes, that’s all I’m asking.”

     Martha pouted, sitting back again. “Fine. Bitch.” She took out her phone and started scrolling through Facebook.

     John smiled and shook his head fondly.

     After class, they took a trip to the library to photocopy John’s notes. “Which client was it this morning?” John asked. “The one that took too long?”

     “Bigmouth Guy,” Martha said. “The one that talks himself up?”

     John nodded as he put his notebook into the photocopy machine and pressed ‘photocopy’. Martha had mentioned him on multiple occasions. “Isn’t he the one that always tries to get you to fuck him?”

     Martha groaned. “Oh my God, _yes_. Jesus fucking Christ. Honestly, what’s the one rule – the one fucking rule about escorting?”

     “No–”

     “No penetration.”

     “–penetration.”

     Martha threw her hands up in the air. “Yep!” Her mood suddenly shifted, and she seemed to be over the whole thing. “Oh well. At least I get paid.”

     The machine beeped, and John took out his notebook and the new copy, which he handed to Martha. “You better not let him, though. Even if it gets you paid.”

     Martha sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Honestly? I think he just does it coz he likes me telling him no.”

     John snorted. “Whatever works for him, I guess.”

     Martha hummed in agreement. “Can we go home now? I want to change out of this stupid outfit.”

 

     Later, John slid open his bedrooms doors and waltzed in, holding his arms out. “How do I look?”

     Without even looking up from her phone, Martha said, “You look great.”

     John let his arms drop. “Mattie,” he whined.

     Martha smiled and looked up at him. “You look nice, okay?”

     “It’s hard to know what to wear when the guy doesn’t even say what he’s looking for.”

     “Well, did you ask him?”

     John bit his lip. “No,” he admitted. “But usually they just kinda… offer themselves up.”

     “Well, it’s his fault if he didn’t say anything.” Martha stood up. “Do you need a lift?”

     John grinned sheepishly. “Yes please thank you I love you.”

     Martha grabbed her keys off the coffee table. “What would you do without me?”

     It was a hotel that John was well-acquainted with. He asked for the room key under Ben Adams’ name, and made himself at home.

     At five minutes after six, this Ben guy still hadn’t arrived. John himself wasn’t the most punctual human being on Earth, but he didn’t like his clients making him wait.

     He hesitated, and then went to the door, opening it. Maybe Ben would be trying to find the roo–

     Oh.

     “Oh,” said the guy in front of him.

     He was short, about John’s height, his hair pulled back in a ponytail. He had a goatee, and eyes that were as dark as his hair.

     He was… cute. Which was not a word John often used to describe men that were more than ten years older than him.

     Maybe it was just the startled look on the guy’s face.

     “Ben Adams?” John said, secretly hoping it was, and not just some guy who was lost.

     “Uh…”

     John heard his phone _ding_ behind him, and the guy’s face went from startled to borderline horrified.

     John took his ‘uh’ as a, ‘yes, I am Ben Adams’. He stepped back, going for his phone – he’d forgotten to put the damn thing on silent – and glancing back over his shoulder as he did so. “Come on in.”

     He picked up his phone and read the text. He hadn’t saved Ben’s number, but it was safe to assume that the text message was from him. _Sorry for the late notice,_ _but something came up at work, and I can’t make it tonight. I’ll contact you later for payment. Sorry to waste your time. Ben._

 _Oh, great_ , John thought to himself sarcastically. _We got cold feet_.

     He put his phone on silent and held it up to Ben, hoping his smile didn’t seem too snarky. “It looks like to me you can make it just fine.”

     To his credit, Ben did look horrifically embarrassed. And then he, honest to God, started stammering. “That, uh… I – well–”

     John couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, well, I don’t know what kind of cancellation policy you think I have, but this is just a _little_ too late notice, I’m afraid.”

     “Yeah, no, I didn’t…”

     John let it slide. The hour was ticking, after all. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and looked to Ben expectantly. “So? What did you want to start with this evening?”

 

     If John looked back on that night and had to pick a moment where he realised that, _oh no, this guy’s actually super cute_ , it was probably when Ben – who he discovered was actually named Alexander (not even Alex, it was _Alexander_ ) – finally stopped stammering and tripping over his words enough to actually speak. Then, or when he said John’s actual name for the first time.

     John didn’t know exactly why he’d told Alexander his real name. It wasn’t unheard of to tell a client his real name – sometimes it put them at ease, made them feel more comfortable – but he hadn’t had any real motive other than he just wanted to be honest with this guy. He’d just wanted to tell Alexander his real name.

     And then Alexander had looked at him with those big brown Bambi eyes and said, “John,” and John had almost felt a shiver go down his spine. _I could get used to hearing my name come from that mouth of yours_ , he’d thought, and then thanked the gods that he hadn’t said that out loud.

     Not that it would have mattered. Right? Alexander was technically paying him to say stuff like that.

     The time flew. John knew pretty early on that he was screwed. Or he would be screwed, if he saw Alexander ever again. Which, in all reality, was unlikely. Unless Alexander booked him again. Which, again, was unlikely. The dude really seemed to love his wife.

     But every laugh – it was kind of a high-pitched laugh, pretty much a giggle – and every smile – he got crow’s feet when he smiled – every thoughtful frown – he did it pretty much whenever John spoke, really intently listening – and every stupid joke that Alexander made – and he made a lot of stupid jokes – dug him further into John’s heart. There was just something so endearing about him.

     And then John noticed the time. “Oh,” he said despondently, “uh, time’s nearly up.”

     “What?” Alexander said, sounding as surprised as John felt, checking his phone. “Oh, shit.”

     “No, no, it’s okay,” John said, because, great, he wasted Alexander’s time and money by just fucking chatting, and not doing his actual job. He hurriedly tidied up the bed, and blurted out, “It’s fine, we can just do something now, if you want to.”

     “I’m sorry,” Alexander said.

     “Don’t apologise,” John said. It wasn’t Alexander’s fault, anyway; it was John’s.

     John freed Alexander’s hands of the bottle of vodka and pulled him to his feet. His heart did a dumb little tap dance. He ignored it.

     John tried to turn on his professional mode. “If there’s anything you wanna do, you should probably… do it now.”

 _Please do something_.

     Alexander nodded. “Right. Yeah.”

 _Please do something please do something_.

     John led Alexander to the bed, sitting them both down, and Alexander took a steadying breath.

 _Please please plea– He’s not doing anything. He paid for this, why isn’t he doing anything?_ John gingerly gave him a questioning look. “Do you want me to…?”

     Alexander winced. “Sorry, I just–”

 _Just what? Just don’t want to? Just can’t?_ John forced himself to laugh. “It’s fine. Really. Don’t stress.”

 _Yeah, John. Don’t stress. This isn’t a fucking date_.

     Alexander chuckled nervously. He had a little crease between his eyebrows, and it made John want to gently smooth it out with his fingers. “Okay,” he said, more to himself than to John. “I’m fine. I’m cool. Okay.” He adjusted his ponytail. John bit his lip, hoping that Alexander couldn’t tell he was trying to smother a grin, because _this guy is so damn cute_.

     Alexander looked to John again. His gaze moved to John’s lips.

     John’s stomach twisted. It was go time.

     The seconds that ticked by felt like hours. Finally, John couldn’t take it anymore, and kissed Alexander.

     Alexander kissed back, and, oh man. John struggled to find the willpower to pull back, because he hadn’t actually checked if Alexander was cool with this. “Was that okay?”

     Alexander nodded. “Yeah. Yep.” He reached for John again, and John could feel his pulse beating under his skin all over his body.

     The kiss escalated. John lost himself in the feel of Alexander’s lips, the touch of his hands. At one point he moved them back more onto the bed, and Alexander tried to unbutton his shirt. He couldn’t, so he just ripped the thing apart. John barely even noticed, until Alexander pulled away, mumbling something along the lines of, “I’m sorry,” and, “I’ll buy you a new one.”

     “It’s fine, it’s fine,” John said without a second thought. He was just focused on getting Alexander’s mouth back onto his.

     Alexander’s hands were now on John’s bare skin, and, God, he actually _moaned_. Like just the feel of John’s chest under his fingertips was a turn on.

     Poor guy mustn’t have been lying about the sex troubles at home.

     John reached up, using one hand to gently pull Alexander down so he could reach his neck with his lips. He wanted Alexander's mouth free so he could actually hear the intoxicating sounds coming from his mouth. With his other hand, John began working his way down the buttons on Alexander’s shirt. He could feel himself just starting to grow hard, the promise of what was coming enough to get him started.

     And then Alexander was backing away from him.

     And then he was saying, “I’m sorry,” a million times.

     And then he was gone, a bundle of cash in John’s hand where Alexander’s dick should have been.

     And John was left alone in a hotel room, wondering what the hell just happened.

 

     “Uh-oh.”

     John said nothing. He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, an empty mini bottle of vodka in his hand.

     Martha made her way over to him, dropping her car keys and handbag on the coffee table as she went. “What happened?” She frowned. “How did you even get home?”

     “Bus,” John mumbled.

     Martha pried the bottle from his hand and chucked it onto his bag. “Why are you drinking and staring into space like you’re thinking about your past as an assassin and you’re questioning whether it was a good idea to become an assassin or not?”

     John said nothing.

     Martha sighed and climbed onto his bed, lying down beside him. She rolled onto her side, facing him. “Did the guy not pay you?” she asked.

     John shook his head.

     “Was he really fucking ugly?”

     John shook his head.

     “Did he compare you to his partner who he very recently divorced?”

     John managed a huff at that.

     Martha reached out and poked his cheek. “Hey. Jack.”

     John lolled his head to the side to glare at her. “Don’t call me that. You know I hate it.”

     “It got your attention, didn’t it?” Martha propped her head up on her hand. “What went wrong?”

     John sulked. “Nothing,” he mumbled.

     Martha squinted her eyes a little. “Nothing?”

     “Yeah. That’s what’s wrong.”

     Martha didn’t seem impressed by his ambiguity. “The fuck does that mean?”

     John made a sad face, and then it clicked for Martha. “Oh no, you don’t actually _like_ him, do you?”

     John whimpered pathetically, looking to the ceiling again.

     Martha sighed, and settled down, resting her head on his chest and hugging his waist. “Oh, John. I always knew you were a hopeless romantic.”

     “He’s married,” John said.

     “Mm-hm,” Martha said sympathetically.

     “And he just wanted my services so he could feel sexy again so he could fuck his wife good so they could have a baby.”

     “Basically Romeo and Juliet.”

     “And we didn’t even _do_ anything.”

     Martha lifted her head to look John in the face. “What?”

     John flopped an arm across his forehead. “I mean, we made out a bit at the end, but we just talked the whole time. And he was really nice and funny and cute…”

     “Oh.” Martha screwed up her nose. “That’s weird.”

     “Uh-huh.”

     “That’s, like, the opposite of what you said he wanted you for.”

     “Uh-huh.”

     Martha cocked her head. “Well, maybe that means he’ll want you again.”

     John moaned pitifully and covered his face with his arms. “This is the worst.”

     “You’ll get over it,” Martha said, patting his cheek. She climbed off the bed and headed towards the kitchen. “You want pizza again, or Chinese takeout?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter: Eliza hears Alexander's side of the story  
> also, the 'no penetration' rule is something from You Me Her, that Izzy (who John is based off) and her roommate Nina (aka Martha) mention a couple of times - i don't know if it's a rule with escorts, or just a rule with those two, but i decided to chuck in into this fic anyway xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a short chapter this time! don't worry, the plot definitely thickens next chapter xx

     When Alexander arrived home, dinner was waiting for him, and so was his wife. “I just reheated some leftover pasta bake from the other night,” Eliza said when he walked in the door, “is that okay?”

     Alexander felt like he was in some kind of daze. He didn’t know how to feel or what to do. “What?” he said. “Oh, um, yeah, that’s – that’s fine.”

     She took the pasta bake out of the oven and set it on the island bench. She gave him a cheeky smile. “So? How’d it go? You ready to make a baby?”

     Alexander just stared at her. Conflicting emotions and thoughts bounced off each other and collided, whirling around in a chaotic storm within him. Finally, he said, “Really?”

     Eliza stopped. “What?” she said, a little indignantly.

     “You – you don’t have an issue? With me hiring a – a young man, a complete stranger, to – do – sex stuff with?”

     “Well, if _you_ have an issue with it, it’s an odd time to bring it up.”

     “How do you… I don’t…”

     “Seeing as you already had your little session with him. What was his name? Chase?”

     “It was John, actually. He told me his real name.”

     “Oh, John? Are you two best friends now?”

     Alexander growled, more frustrated at himself than anything else. “We didn’t do anything.”

     Eliza clicked her tongue. “You what? You didn’t _do_ anything?”

     Alexander threw his hands in the air. “No. I mean, we made out a little bit–”

     “What the hell did you do, if you–”

     “–and it was escalating into something more, but then I stopped it.”

     “–weren’t fixing our current situation?” Eliza’s eyes went wide. “You _stopped_ it? Why the hell did you stop it?”

     “Because it’s wrong! I didn’t want to–”

     “You spent our money on–”

     “–do anything that might make things worse.”

     “–what, a nice, hour-long conversation? How could this make things _worse_? I don’t get it. Explain to me, Alexander–”

     Alexander stormed over to the kitchen table, throwing his messenger bag onto a chair. “I don’t understand why you’re so angry with me.”

     “–how this could make things worse.”

     “Because–”

     “Because _why_?”

     “Because I might like him?”

     Eliza went quiet. “You… What? You like him? That’s what this is about?”

     Alexander gave her a baffled look. “And you’re just fine with that? You’re fine with me liking him?”

     Eliza’s face crumpled in confusion. “What the hell do you mean, you _like_ him? You’re not–”

     “I mean, he was really nice–”

     “–supposed to _hate_ him. He’s an escort, you’re–”

     “–and we really hit it off, and–”

     “–supposed to be attracted to him, that’s kinda–”

     “–I probably liked him more than I should.”

     “–his whole thing.”

     Alexander was still lost. “So, like, first you’re cool with me hiring an escort, and now you’re cool with me having some kind of crush on him?”

     Eliza let out a harsh laugh. “You have a crush on him? A crush? How old are you, fourteen?”

     “Yeah, well, maybe I am," Alexander snapped.

     “Did this actually achieve anything? What was the point of this?”

     “Well, I said, we made out a bit.”

     “And? How did that go for you?”

     “It was really nice, actually, thank you for asking.”

     Eliza shook her head. “Made out,” she muttered to herself.

     Alexander stuck his nose in the air. “Yeah. We made out,” he said. “And there was a bit of…” He made some gesture in the air in front of him. “I don’t know if you call it ‘under the shirt action’ if it’s a guy, and also his shirt was, um, not done up, so I don’t know if…”

     Eliza watched him make a fool of himself, and nodded. “Oh yeah? Is that what you did?” She copied his gesturing, making circling movements with her flat palms, as if she was washing a window. “You did that on his naked torso? And he liked that, did he?”

     Alexander did not appreciate her making fun of him. “No, I didn’t do that. I was just–”

     “That got him going, did it?”

     “I was gesturing, Eliza. You know that’s what I was doing.”

     Eliza dropped her hands and heaved a sigh, her eyes on the cooling pasta bake in front of her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just… This is a lot.”

     Alexander made his way over, placing his hand over hers. “I know. I’m sorry. This is…” He laughed. “This is crazy. This is absolutely insane. I mean, I just made out with some twenty-one-year-old guy. I _hired_ him.”

     Eliza smiled, interlocking her fingers with his. “And now you have a crush on him.”

     “It’s a fleeting crush,” Alexander amended. “The kind of crush you get on someone you meet for five minutes, you know?”

     Eliza took Alexander’s other hand. “Was he a good kisser? Be honest.”

     Alexander took a moment to assess just how honest he should be, before saying, “He was pretty good.”

     Eliza quirked an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Pretty good? Better than me?”

     “Of course not.” Alexander leant in for a peck on the lips, and Eliza gave it to him. “But, y’know, it is his job, so.”

     Eliza laughed. “Oh? Is that your way of saying that he maybe _was_ better than me?”

     “I’m just saying–”

     “Oh my God, stop.”

     Alexander laughed, and Eliza kissed him again, letting go of his hands to wind her arms around his neck. Alexander’s hands stroked up and down Eliza’s back. It was comforting and familiar. Nothing at all like his kisses with John, but just as nice all the same.

     Eliza pulled back, smiled at her husband, pecked him on the lips one last time, and untangled herself from him. “Come on. Dinner’s getting cold.”

     It wasn’t until later on, when they were lying in bed, that a thought occurred to them both:

_We kissed. Like, a proper kiss. We haven’t done that in months._

_Maybe it_ did _work._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! so, sorry it's been a few days, uni homework decided to try to drown me, but i'm just managing to tread water to keep my head above it... for now.  
> anyway, without further ado, here's the next chapter! xx

     “I have another session today,” John said, only a little smugly, as he made him and Martha coffee.

     Martha yawned. “What? Really? With the same guy?”

     John shook his head. “Nah. A woman. Said her name was…” He snorted a laugh. “Rose Green?”

     Martha raised an eyebrow. “Either her parents didn’t realise what they were doing, or she just looked up ‘generic names’ on Google.”

     John poured Martha a coffee and slid it over to her as she sat down on the barstool by the kitchen bench. “Thanks.” She took a sip. “But look at you, getting lots of work.”

     John smiled. “Yeah. I’m glad, actually. But I don’t often have women. Not really my area of expertise.”

     “You’re bi, though.”

     “Yeah, but, like, a huge preference towards men.” John poured himself a mug and took a drink. The hot liquid seemed to soak into his bones, and he hummed happily. “And men usually ask for me. Maybe I just have a real twink vibe about me.”

     Martha shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe. I don’t see the appeal myself, but.”

     John rolled his eyes dramatically. “Come on. We all know you’d leap at the chance to get all up in this.” He ran his hand up and down his body, and Martha laughed, followed by gagging.

     “Ew, _no_. Not if the rest of the human population was about to be wiped out and the only thing that would stop them is us having sex.” She shuddered. “Even saying it repulses me.”

     “You keep telling yourself that,” John said mildly. He was joking, of course. Sleeping with Martha would be like sleeping with his sister.

 

     His session with Rose Green was in the middle of the day. During her lunch break, then. It was at a cute little bar not too far away from John’s college – within walking distance, luckily. He changed into his clothes he’d brought just for the occasion, and spritzed on a bit of cologne.

     He stepped inside the bar, and scanned the people seated. He didn’t know who he was looking for, exactly. He had no idea what Rose looked like. Hopefully she’d recognise him.

     He went up to the bar to order a drink, and then he felt someone tapping on his shoulder. He turned around to see a gorgeous woman in her early- to mid-thirties smiling at him. Long, glossy hair. Perfect pale skin. Soft features. Pale pink lipstick. Blue jeans tucked into ankle boots, a loose slate grey top.

     “Hi,” she said in a melodic voice. “Um, are you Chase?”

_Score_ , John thought. He smiled and held out his hand to shake. “Sure am. Rose Green?”

     “That’s me,” Rose said with a knockout smile.

     “I was just getting a drink. Did you have a table?”

     “Yeah, just there.” She pointed. “I’ll get the drink for you, if you like.”

     It was pretty common for clients to offer to buy him drinks. But it was also common courtesy to look like he didn’t want them at first. “Oh, no, it’s fine. Thank you, though.”

     “No, I insist.”

     John pretended to hesitate. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to…”

     Rose waved a hand. “Of course. I was just about to get one myself.” She stepped up to the bar, beside him.

     John took the opportunity to rake his gaze up and down her body. Subtly, of course.

     First a hot guy, and then a hot girl the next day? Someone up in the sky was definitely smiling down on him.

     Rose turned her head to look at John, her eyes drifting down his throat and back up to his face. “What are you drinking?”

     “Whatever you’re having,” John said.

     Rose chuckled. “You certainly know how to charm a girl.”

     “It’s in the job description.”

     Rose laughed. “I suppose it is.” She ordered them both a beer, and when they got their drinks, they went to sit down. Rose slipped a hand into her handbag and passed him an envelope – the cash – under the table. John thanked her and pocketed it.

     “So,” John said. “What can I do for you today?”

     Rose looked down at her hands folded together on the table. John could see the gleam of a wedding ring on her left hand.

     After a few moments of silence – John almost repeated his question, not sure if she’d heard – Rose lifted her head and said, “I was curious.”

     John raised an eyebrow. “Curious,” he repeated.

     “Yes.”

     John waited for more, but received none – nothing verbal, anyway. But Rose was looking at him in a way that he was used to. Most clients looked at him in that way. He turned on the charm a little, giving Rose a flirty smile. “And what could I do to… satisfy your curiosity?”

     Rose took a small intake of breath, and she suddenly seemed a little flustered. “Um…”

     John slowly reached a hand out, ghosting his fingers over her clasped hands. “You seem a little tense,” he said. “Anything I could do to help that, too?”

     Rose paused, and then her hands gradually unwound themselves from each other, allowing John to turn one hand over, running his finger from her wrist to the tip of her middle finger. Rose shuddered a little; seemed unable to take her eyes off John’s hand.

     Sure, it was his job to impress. It was his job to entice. But it still felt good when someone responded well. It did wonders for John’s ego. Especially when the one he was impressing and enticing was someone as stunning as the woman opposite him.

     “Tell me what you’re curious about, Rose,” John murmured.

     Rose tore her gaze away from where John was lightly stroking her to his eyes. She had warm eyes, like rippling pools of melted dark chocolate.

     John could read her face with ease. It was a look he knew well.

     He mentally prepared himself. She’d probably lean over a kiss him, be surprised by her own boldness, then he’d suggested they take this elsewhere. Or she’d take his hand, link their fingers together, and offer a ride back to her place. Or maybe she’d just drag him into the women’s bathroom – or the men’s, or the disabled if this place had one – and they’d spend the rest of the hour there.

     John’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. Rose’s breath caught in her throat. She swallowed.

     And then she spoke. “I was curious–” She cleared her throat. “I was curious about you? I – I wanted to meet you.”

     John’s hand paused for a moment, before continuing. That was an interesting response. “You wanted to… meet me?”

     “Yes. I wanted to see…” Rose seemed to suddenly break out of the spell, and she pulled her hand back. John didn’t even time to react; his arm stayed where it was on the table. “Look, John, this is probably–”

     John sat back sharply. “Whoa. Hold up. How did you know my name was John? Who are you?”

     Rose grimaced. “I’m sorry, that was–”

     “Who are you? How do you know my name?”

     “John, calm down–”

     “Stop saying my name!” he hissed.

     “I’m Alexander’s wife,” Rose blurted.

     John froze. “What?”

     Rose was looking like she was regretting a few of her life choices. “Alexander? The guy from last night? I’m his wife. My name’s Eliza.”

     Now John was weirded out, in a different way. He held up his hands in defence. “Look, your husband hired me. You cannot blame me for whatever affair you think we had. I think you just need to talk it out with him.”

     Eliza shook her head. “No, no. He wasn’t lying to you last night – I was in on the whole thing. I helped him book you. To help with the – baby thing.”

     John was struggling to wrap his head around it. “So why are you here?”

     Eliza shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know,” she said. “Because something happened last night, between you two. Something… I don’t want to call it ‘special’, but…”

     John’s heart was beating quickly. He didn’t have a lot of experience with jealous wives, but the few he’d come across – the conversations hadn’t ended well.

     “He… _liked_ you.” Eliza looked up at John. She didn’t seem mad. She didn’t seem sad, either. Perhaps a little frustrated. “And I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

     John took a steadying breath. “And?”

     “Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? You’re young, you’re attractive, you clearly know what to do to, y’know, make someone feel – nice.”

     John bit his lip. He hoped her frustration didn’t escalate into something more than what it was. He looked down at his beer. “Well, for what it’s worth, I liked Alexander, too,” he said tentatively.

     When John glanced up at Eliza, she was staring at him with an unreadable expression on her face. Then she blinked, and she shook her head, rising from her seat and reaching for her handbag. “I’m sorry, this was a mistake–”

     John panicked, and leapt to his feet as well. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to – I shouldn’t have said that.”

     Eliza waved a hand, smiling uncomfortably. “No, it was – this is… insane. I can see you’re quite the catch, John, but, really, this was just to see you in person. I’m not trying to…” She struggled for words. “I don’t know. I should go.”

_Oh Jesus, not this again. No wonder they're a couple_. “Wait, Eliza,” John said quickly.

     Eliza paused.

     John scrambled for something to say. “I… Did I help Alexa– your husband? He just kinda left in a hurry. Did I do something wrong?”

     Eliza smiled. “His conscience got the better of him, for once, actually. He felt guilty.”

     “That he was with me?”

     “That he… I think he maybe liked you a little too much for his own good.”

     “Oh.” John felt his cheeks turn pink.

     “And that’s why I should leave.”

     “Because your husband was attracted to me?”

     “No,” Eliza said, “because I can see _why_ he maybe liked you a little too much for his own good.”

     John fell silent. Oh.

     Then it registered what Eliza had said – had admitted.

_Oh_.

     Eliza put a hand to her face, and sighed. “I’m sorry. I…”

     “No, it’s okay,” John said. He went to bite his tongue, but he didn’t catch himself in time, and heard himself saying, “I can see why your husband likes you too.”

     Eliza swallowed, and John could just see the cogs turning in her head. “Thank you,” she said softly.

     John shrugged a little. “You still have an hour with me. If there’s anything else I could help you with…”

     Eliza’s eyes seemed to search his face, and then quickly travelled their way down his body and back up again. “Help?”

     John gave her a small smile. “Interpret that how you will.”

     Eliza pursed her lips, thinking. Then her jaw clenched, and she breathed out harshly. “Un-fucking-believable,” she growled, and grabbed his wrist, marching him to – yep, the women’s bathroom. There was no one inside, so Eliza dumped her handbag on the ground and shoved John against the wall – John grinning – and then grabbed his face and kissed him fiercely. John immediately kissed back, his hands going to her hair, gripping it. Eliza kissed him like she was angry, and John kind of loved it. He could see why she and Alexander worked together.

     Eliza’s hand went to the small of John’s back, slipping just under the hem of his shirt, pressing him against her. John took the liberty of grinding a little, and Eliza made a muffled sound against his mouth.

     And then the kissing stopped as soon as it started. Eliza’s hands stayed where they were, and she pressed her forehead against John’s. They took a moment to catch their breath, and then Eliza stepped back, clearing her throat, smoothing her hair down. She adjusted her top, and picked up her handbag. She almost seemed surprised at herself. She barely looked at John as she said, “Thank you for your help,” and then she hurried out of the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~oohhh, the plot thickens~  
> the only reason why john has a significant preference for guys is that i usually write/read/picture him as gay, but for this story to work i wanted him to be attracted to eliza as well. just, if you were wondering. which you probably weren't. either way, hope you liked it! xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, it's been FIVE DAYS since i uploaded a chapter?? time flies when you're slowly suffocating in uni work.  
> tbh i hadn't opened the word doc for this fic until today bc i'm just a lil overwhelmed rn BUT upon actually seeing what i've already written for this, turns out i have plenty of content already prepared! go past me! which means, although my chapters won't be uploaded, like, every day (i don't want to burn through what i already have too quickly), it means that it won't be like a month in between each chapter! yay! (also my writer's block for this has finally dissipated, thank god. now i just need to organise my time well enough that i can squeeze in actually writing.)  
> blargh sorry i'll stop babbling on now. hope you enjoy this chapter! x  
> (*whispers* also this chapter is why it's M rated just a heads-up)

     Alexander was the first one home that night. He went about making dinner, humming to himself. His mind was a constantly busy place, always buzzing with new ideas and arguments and counterarguments and things he has to do. It was rarely quiet.

     It still wasn’t quiet when John popped into his mind, but it did become slightly hushed, if only for a moment. The memory of his smile and his laugh, the feel of his lips on Alexander’s, his body underneath Alexander’s…

     The front door opened, and Alexander’s mind leapt to somewhere else. He half turned to see Eliza closing the door behind her. “Hey hey,” he said lightly. “How was work?”

     Eliza dumped her handbag on the end of the kitchen counter and took off her shoes and ankle socks, padding over in her bare feet. “Not too bad,” she said. “What about you?”

     “Not too bad,” Alexander said in return, tossing her a smile. She smiled back.

     “Whatcha cooking?” she asked, peering over his shoulder.

     “A little stir fry thing. I’m just cooking the chorizo.”

     “Mm,” Eliza hummed. “Smells good.”

     She watched him cook the chorizo sausage; watched him put it onto a plate when it was done; watched him dump the frying pan into the sink. He gave her an odd look as he made his way back over to the vegetables he’d chopped up. “You all good there, standing in the middle of the kitchen?”

     The words had barely left his mouth when Eliza pounced on him, kissing him. He stepped back in surprise, the small of his back hitting the edge of the island bench. He broke apart to stammer out, “Wh– what?”

     Eliza grinned in a way that sent a shiver down his spine. “I want you,” she said.

     Alexander felt his blood spike. “Like, right now?”

     Eliza nodded, leaning in closer. “Mm-hm.”

     Alexander’s heart started beating frantically. “Like, _right now_ right now?”

     “Mm-hm.” Eliza kissed him again, deeply, and Alexander responded in kind. In no time at all her tongue was in his mouth, and he felt giddy, because, _What the fuck, we’re making out, we haven’t made out in, like, two years_. He slid his hands underneath her shirt, skimming his hands over the smooth skin of her back, and Eliza pulled him away from the kitchen bench, tugging at his belt.

     Alexander’s eyebrows shot up, and he pulled back again. “Oh, we’re doing it in the kitchen?”

     Eliza giggled. “Yep,” she said, and Alexander nodded.

     “All right, I can get on board with that,” he said, making Eliza laugh again. He pulled her shirt over her head, letting it drop to the floor beside them, and pressed his lips to her neck, kissing down her throat, as she took out his ponytail and ran her fingers through his hair.

     She gave his hair a tug, and Alexander moaned. “Jeez, it’s been a while since we’ve done any of that,” he said, and Eliza just pulled sharply on his hair in response, making him inhale sharply, tilting his head back. She kissed his neck, a tight grip on his hair with one hand, the other hand undoing his belt and then his fly.

     When she was done, she shoved her hand into his underwear, tugging on his dick, hardening it in her palm. Alexander groaned, his hips jerking forward. “Jesus, Betsey.”

     Eliza let go of his hair, and Alexander surged forward, kissing her enthusiastically. He battled with her bra clasp, managing to get it undone – they could have been married for fifty years and he still wouldn’t be able to get it undone easily – and Eliza shrugged her bra off, and then shoved her pants and underwear down her legs. Alexander did the same, and Eliza nudged him, urging him to get on the floor, which he did, sitting, leaning back on his hands. He gazed at his wife as she stood over him, tying her hair up with the hair tie she’d taken off him. God, he was a lucky man. Eliza was a fucking goddess.

     Eliza knelt on the ground, straddling him, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, hot, sloppy kisses. Alexander needed to prompting to stroke his fingers through her folds, and she shuddered and moaned appreciatively.

     Alexander knew his wife. He knew what she liked. So it didn’t take long before Eliza was moaning loudly and panting, murmuring, “That’s it, honey. That feels so good. God, yes, Alexander.”

     Alexander pumped two fingers in and out of her, rubbing her clit with his thumb. “Do you want to – before I–”

     Eliza nodded. “Please, I’m close.”

     “Lie down,” Alexander said.

     Eliza shook her head. “No, I’m–”

     “Please? You look so hot right now, I _really_ wanna eat you out. Please?”

     Eliza whimpered. “Okay, okay.” She unwrapped her arms from around his neck, and clambered back, lying down on the floor. “Come on, come on, hurry up,” she said, waving Alexander over, and Alexander crawled over and settled in between her legs, wasting no time in eating her out.

     Eliza had already been fairly close before he’d started using his mouth, so it didn’t take long for her to be pushing the edge. She tugged at his hair, gasping, “Yes, yes, yes – come on, honey, please, please, I’m so close.”

     Alexander pushed two fingers into her again, adding a third, upping his efforts, and Eliza was panting, and her grip was tightening in his hair, and then let out a sigh, her body relaxing. Alexander kept going, more gently, carrying her through her orgasm as she shuddered, her breathing levelling out somewhat.

     Eliza let go of his hair, stroking it, and Alexander took it as an indication that she’d had enough. He pressed a kiss to her inner thigh and crawled up her body. She reached up to meet his lips, and she kissed him lovingly, sighing through a contented moan.

     “That was wonderful, honey,” she said. She reached between Alexander’s legs, making sure he hadn’t softened. “How you holding up?”

     “Ready when you are,” he said with a grin, and Eliza laughed. “Did I stretch you out enough? You okay?”

     “Yeah, no, you did good,” she said. She pulled him in for another kiss, jerking him off just enough to get him frazzled, using the pre-come leaking from the tip as another lubricant, coating his dick.

     Alexander’s hips bucked forward and he broke away, groaning, squeezing his eyes shut. “Betsey…”

     “Sorry, sorry, I’m ready,” she said. She lined up his dick with her entrance, and nodded.

     Alexander pushed into her, just the slightest bit, and Eliza winced a little. “Oh, shit, sorry, are you not–”

     Eliza shook her head firmly. “No, I’m fine, I’m fine. Go.”

     “Are you sure? Did you want me to go grab some lube or something?”

     Eliza wrapped her legs around his waist with a laugh. “Alexander, just get in me, will you?”

     Alexander nodded. “Yep. Sorry.” Eliza giggled again, and Alexander bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. “Stop it,” he said. “You’re ruining the moment.”

     Eliza pushed at the small of his back with her heels. “You’re so _slow_ , what are you _doing_ ,” she said, laughing still.

     Alexander dropped his head onto her shoulder with a snort, his laughter bubbling from his chest. “Betsey,” he whined.

     “Get your penis _in me_ , Alexander.”

     “Bestey, you’re making it sound _horrible_.”

     Eliza threw her head back, her laughter bouncing off the kitchen cabinets, and Alexander joined her. Their laughter eventually made way for short, loving kisses, and murmurings of how ridiculous and silly the other was, before the kisses grew longer and the murmuring stopped, and Eliza was nodding, nudging Alexander with her heels, and Alexander pushed into her, slowly, be careful not to hurt her. When he was all the way in, he leant down to kiss her throat and collarbones, and slowly started thrusting.

     Eliza whispered encouragements to him, her body jerking, just narrowly avoiding overstimulation, and he picked up the pace.

     Soon, Eliza pushed on Alexander’s shoulder. Alexander knew that was her indicating that she wanted to top, so he rolled them over, Eliza straddling his lap, and, bracing herself on his chest, she began riding him.

     She shuddered, rolling her hips, lifting herself up and down, and Alexander was again blown away by how perfect she was. He rested his hands on her waist, his hips snapping up to meet hers, and they settled into a dizzying pace.

     It didn’t take long before Alexander was rapidly climbing to his climax. “Betsey, I’m not gonna last long,” he gasped out.

     “That’s okay, that’s okay,” Eliza panted, flicking a loose strand of sweat-damp hair from her face. “Don’t try to stop.”

     Alexander’s thrusts grew erratic, and Eliza shoved her hand between her legs, rubbing at herself. Her body was flushed, especially her face, and her skin was shiny with sweat. She threw her head back, grinding down, and Alexander felt himself tumble over the edge, groaning out Eliza’s name. Eliza continued to bounce on top of him, breathing out, “I’m almost there, I’m almost there–”

     Alexander nearly had to stop her – he was moments away from being overstimulated, and that was _not_ a kink he had – but then she convulsed, her head dropping, and her movements stopped. Alexander could feel her throbbing around him.

     They locked eyes, and they both let out breathless laughter. “Well,” Alexander said. “I think that’s worth postponing dinner for.”

     “I’ll say,” Eliza said. She carefully pulled herself off Alexander, wincing a little, and helped Alexander sit up, kissing him gently. They sat side-by-side against the island bench, catching their breath.

     “Honey,” Eliza said, “I love you, and I want kids really badly, but, God, I hate feeling your come leaking out of me.”

     Alexander laughed, and grimaced. “Ugh, it’s gonna be all over the kitchen floor!”

     “Well, you can clean it up, then, seeing as it’s yours,” Eliza said with a chuckle.

     Alexander raked his hands through his hair, pushing it off his sweaty face. “What was the occasion?”

     Eliza shrugged. “I just really felt like having sex.”

     “Good occasion.”

     Eliza hummed in agreement. She adjusted her ponytail. “I, um… I saw John today,” she said.

     Alexander looked at her sharply, but she was staring straight ahead. “You _what_?”

     “I may have booked an appointment with him,” she said in a small voice.

     “Why?”

     Eliza looked down at her knees. “Because you said you liked him.”

     Alexander sighed and took her hand. “Honey, I’m sorry about that. You don’t need to be jealous, I promise. I’m gonna go track him down or anything. It’s nothing to be concerned about. Honestly.”

     Eliza chuckled. “I know. I wasn’t… Well, maybe a little bit. Curious, more than anything else. And I wanted to know how you could take such a shining to someone so quickly. I mean, you know, back in the day, you were a bit of a slut…”

     Alexander gasped, offended. “Excuse you! I was a _massive_ slut.”

     Eliza laughed. “Well, yeah. But with our recent problems and everything, I thought that part of you must have faded away. So I was just curious what kind of person could, y’know, bring it back to life like that.” She snapped her fingers for emphasis.

     Alexander considered this. “And? What did you think?”

     Maybe it was the post-sex afterglow, but it looked like Eliza was blushing. “He was very nice. I don’t blame you for liking him.”

     “And what did he think of you?”

     Eliza grinned sheepishly, looking at Alexander. “I may have told him that I was your wife.”

     Alexander’s mouth fell open. “You didn’t.”

     “I did. I just said it. I don’t know why. I hadn’t intended to.”

     “What did he say?”

     “He thought I was gonna attack him, the poor thing,” she said with a laugh. “I freaked him out a bit.”

     Alexander chuckled. “Great. Even if I was going to go after him, you shot _that_ idea in the face.”

     Eliza said nothing in response to that. Alexander frowned a little, wondering why there was no retaliation, and then Eliza said, so quickly that Alexander almost missed it, “We also made out.”

     Alexander’s eyes went wide. “You… You made out?”

     Eliza bit her bottom lip, her face the picture of guilt. “Yeah.”

     Alexander struggled to wrap his head around it. “What, like, a lot?”

     “Not really? He was just sitting there, with this look on his face, and this smile–”

     Alexander nodded in understanding.

     “–and the next thing I knew I’d dragged him to the bathroom and I kissed him.”

     “And he didn’t protest?”

     “Not even the slightest.” Eliza snorted and looked to Alexander. “He reminds me of you when you were twenty-one.”

     Alexander had nothing to say in defence. “Yeah, that sounds like me.”

     “And, I – I kissed him hard,” Eliza confessed. “Like, rough hard.”

     “Damn,” Alexander said, feigning only mild interest, when really, he was dying to know. “Did he like it?”

     Eliza wasn't fooled for a second. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you want me to describe it in pornographic detail for you? So you can imagine it more vividly?”

     “If you’d be so kind.”

     Eliza laughed and shook her head. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

     Alexander grinned cheekily. “Well, like I said, I was a massive slut.”

     “And you still are,” Eliza said, leaning over to kiss him.

     “I’m _your_ massive slut,” Alexander cooed jokingly. “But really, though, did he like it?”

     Eliza rolled her eyes, but said, “Yes.”

     Alexander shifted, turning to face her properly, not bothering to hide his immense interest. “He did?”

     “There may have been a little grinding,” Eliza said quietly.

     Alexander bit his lip. “And then what happened?”

     Eliza swatted his arm. “Perv.”

     “You know it.”

     Eliza sighed. “I just… stopped. What I was doing was wrong.” She frowned at her husband. “It was wrong, by the way. Just to remind you. It’s generally seen as a bad thing for someone who’s married to make out with someone else.”

     “It’s generally wrong for someone who’s married to book an escort, yet here we are.”

     Eliza nodded. “Touché.” She shrugged. “So I just left. I went back to work.”

     Alexander pulled a face. “Oh.”

     Eliza laughed. “I can’t believe you!”

     “What can I say? I need material for when you’re not around.”

     Eliza patted his cheek and gave him a kiss on the lips. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. And that chorizo smells really good.”

     Alexander got to his feet, and pulled Eliza up to hers. “I hear you, but I also think a shower wouldn’t go astray. And, just for future reference, we should really clean this kitchen floor more often.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you love it? did u hate it? was it painfully average? it's been a long while since i've written peen-vj sexy times but i hope it came across okay. also, sorry these chapters are not even vaguely all the same in length. i have no discipline. see you next chapter! x


	8. Chapter 8

     Martha came home to find John in the exact same position as the night before. She stood, staring at John’s limp body, her arms crossed.

     John had almost forgotten she was there, and then she said, “Fucking hell.”

     John pouted. “This is the worst thing to ever happen to me, ever, in my entire life.”

     “What _now_? Is it that guy again?”

     John shook his head.

     “Do I seriously have to start listing things like last night?”

     John heaved a sigh. “It was today’s client.”

     Martha came and sat on the edge of the bed, rolling her eyes. “Are you actually joking? You’ve, what, got two little baby crushes on two clients in two days? Maybe you should stop escorting, if your feelings keep getting in the way.”

     “Maybe I should.”

     Martha paused. “You know I was joking, right? You’d be an idiot to give it up.”

     John looked at her. “It was his wife,” he whispered.

     Martha leant in a little bit. “What?”

     “My client? Today? It was his wife. The guy from last night.”

     Martha’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit,” she said gravely. “Oh shit. What did she say? Did she hurt you?”

     John shook his head. “She didn’t do any of that. She was fine with it all. The thing last night with her husband had been arranged by both of them.”

     Martha screwed up her nose. “Weird. Go on.”

     John shrugged. “She just wanted to see for herself what her husband found so, I don’t know, captivating about me.”

     Martha snorted. “Modest as always.”

     “I’m serious; that’s basically what she told me.”

     “Well? Is that it? She just put a face to the name and then she left?”

     John moved his gaze back to the ceiling. “Not exactly.”

     “Do I have to fucking tear information out of you every time you have something worth telling?”

     John sighed and sat up. “We flirted. She was really hot and really nice and she was _definitely_ flirting with me.”

     Martha’s face bloomed into one of absolute joy. “ _No way_.”

     “And then we made out in the women’s bathroom.”

     John had never seen Martha so happy. “This is _crazy_ ,” she said slowly, as if she couldn’t believe it. She probably couldn’t.

     John almost smiled at her over-the-top expression. He groaned, covering his face with his hands, and flopped back down onto the bed. “Why me? Why did they decide to choose me? Couldn’t they have picked someone else?”

     “Someone less emotionally vulnerable? Someone not craving romantic intimacy?” Martha offered.

     “Exactly.”

     Martha giggled, clapping her hands. “This is incredible,” she said. “First you wanna fuck the husband, then the wife. This is amazing.”

     “No it’s not.”

     “It’s amazing that they wanna fuck you, too.”

     “No, they don’t. They’re just using me to…”

     “To get themselves riled up so they’ll fuck each other.” Martha gave John a playful shove. “John, this is _hilarious_. You’ll be telling this story to your grandkids ones day.”

     John removed his hands and glared at her. “I think fucking not.”

     Martha ignored him. “The story of how you drew both halves of a couple to bed. Separately. Using nothing but your pretty face.”

     “I didn’t sleep with them.”

     “You can embellish the details.”

     John looked at her for a moment, decided he had no comeback to that, and left his room.

     Martha threw her hands in the air. “What? John!”

     John ignored her, heading straight to the kitchen to pull out a tub of Neapolitan ice cream from the freezer. He started eating straight from the tub with a spoon.

     Martha followed him in, and gave him a look as he stuffed his mouth. “Seriously?”

     John put on his best sad puppy eyes, his cheeks almost bursting, and Martha let her head roll back, groaning. “Ugh, _fine_ , I’m sorry I made fun of you,” she said. She looked to the ice cream and crossed her arms. “Why do you have to be so melodramatic all the time?”

     John swallowed his mouthful. “I get it from you.”

     Martha quirked an eyebrow. “Sure, whatever makes you feel better.” She grabbed a spoon from the cutlery drawer and joined John in eating the ice cream. “So you really feel shitty about this, huh? You actually like both of them?”

     “Mm-hm,” John said pitifully.

     “Well, what do you want to do about it?”

     John shrugged. “I dunno. I’m hoping it’ll fade away soon.”

     “It will,” Martha said, pressing a kiss to his cheek, leaving a smudge of ice cream. She wiped it away with her thumb. “Don’t worry.”

     John hesitated, and then said, “I’m gonna quit escorting.”

     Martha half-scowled at him. “You do this every time,” she said. “Something goes wrong in your life, and you say you’re going to quit, and you say you’re going to get your life together, but then your life goes back to the way it was and you come back to escorting.”

     “I mean it this time.”

     “You say that every time.”

     John huffed and, not bothered to argue, ate some more ice cream.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one day bc they were short and i felt like it. also i'm just realising now how fucking slow this slow burn is. i'm going off the plot of the show but i'm kinda realising that if i do that, it's probably gonna be a good 30 000 words or so before anything really happens lmao i feel bad making u guys wait, i'm getting a little impatient myself, so we'll see if i have the time to do some rewrites... xx

     From the outside, the next week passed normally. To John, Alex, and Eliza, the next week passed in an odd manner.

     Not that they were aware of how the week passed for anyone else but themselves – they were too wrapped up in their own heads to even think about anyone else.

     For John, he often found himself daydreaming of Alexander’s laugh, or of Eliza’s smile, or of the way Alexander’s hands had touched him with such reverence, or the way Eliza had shoved him against the wall. Alexander’s nervousness. The look in Eliza’s eyes just before she’d kissed him.

     If John thought having a crush on _one_ person took up a lot of his time – what with all the fantasising and the pining – then he had been drastically underprepared for having crushes on _two_ people. Martha would turn up to lectures to find John’s notebook completely blank, save for maybe one of two words, or sometimes just the date on the top of the page. Martha would scowl at him, and bully someone else into giving them both their notes.

     For Alexander, the week was productive. Not that he wasn’t ever unproductive, but if he found himself with nothing to do for more than two minutes, his mind began to drift. Drift right into the section of his brain that was totally inappropriate to explore at work.

     It happened once, just before his lunch break. He hadn’t even realised his thoughts had become unfocused on the task at hand before he started imagining John knocking on his door, smiling that smile of his, sauntering into the office. Closing the door behind him. Walking closer, closer, Alexander sitting motionless, heart racing, unsure of how to proceed. John gliding around the edge of Alexander’s desk. Turning Alexander’s swivel chair to face him. Straddling Alexander’s lap, kissing his neck, loosening Alexander’s tie so he had room to kiss down his throat to the hollow at the base. Raising his head to kiss Alexander, open-mouthed, slow, hot kisses. Pawing at Alexander’s crotch, gently rutting against him. The sound of both of their panting filling the room. Alexander grunting, rolling his hips against John’s, wanting _more, more, more_ –

     Alexander’s desk phone rang, jolting him from his thoughts. He was breathing hard, and he was uncomfortably tight in his trousers.

     It took a few moments for him to calm himself somewhat before he could answer the phone.

     For Eliza, the week went similarly to her husband’s. But instead of throwing herself into her work, she continued as normal – which was hardly slacking off, mind you – and simply denied to herself that she was ever distracted.

     Which was a lie. She’d had similar fantasies to Alexander, dreaming of John walking into her office, giving her a heated look before getting down on his knees, pushing Eliza’s skirt up her thighs and pulling her underwear down to her ankles. Pulling her forward so she sat on the edge of her chair. Lapping through her folds. The difference in Eliza’s dream, though, was that John was hidden under her desk, and she had to keep working, her co-workers going about their day around her, trying not to squirm or make a sound as John brought her closer and closer to the edge.

     Eliza shook herself from her thoughts, sighing, trying to get some oxygen into her brain. She shifted in her seat, telling herself that she wasn’t trying to grind against her chair. She almost whimpered as it did next to nothing to curb her arousal, and a shiver went through her.

     She sighed again, breathing out sharply, and refocused on her work.

     Neither husband nor wife were willing to admit that they’d been thinking about someone else for the past couple of days – or that doing so was what basically revived their sex life. Every couple of nights, Alexander and Eliza were treating themselves to everything their hearts desired. In the early days of their relationship, all those years ago, they’d been known to those in close circles as being one of the less vanilla couples in bed, but they’d long grown out of that.

     Or so they’d thought.

     Not that the sex they were having was _too_ wild. There were no whips or chains. Many years ago, they’d tried fisting once – Alexander receiving –but that had only been the once. Neither of them had wanted to try that again.

     But when Eliza had suggested they bring out Alexander’s dildo one night, Alexander hadn’t complained. In fact, it was almost embarrassing how quickly and eagerly he’d agreed.

     And when Alexander had, almost shyly, approached Eliza with a handful of lingerie and some soft rope, mumbling something about _We haven’t done it in a while_ and _I get if you’re too tired but it was just a thought_ , Eliza had leapt at the idea. She had aged a little since she’d worn the lingerie Alexander had offered to her, but Alexander had assured her that it suited her more than it ever had.

     The next time, Eliza had made sure that Alexander was the one wearing the lingerie.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back again! the next couple of chapters are going to be shorter ones. also in the show the Big Brother is a Huge Fucking Dick (that also loves his little brother but hates showing it) and his interactions with Jack (that's Alex in this fic) are the best i love them. so have some more. hope u like it! x

     Alexander finally decided to spill one morning when he was getting coffee with his brother, as he did pretty much every day of the week. Although sometimes he wondered why he bothered.

     “Hey, James…”

     James gave him a look, instantly suspicious. “What?”

     Alexander sucked in air between his teeth. “You know how you told me to hire that escort?”

     James raised his eyebrows. He almost looked proud. It was an unusual expression to see on his face; it almost made Alexander uncomfortable. “You did it? How good was it, right?”

     Alexander grimaced sheepishly. “Well…”

     James smacked a hand to his forehead. “Don’t tell me: the wife found out. Did she? Aw, fuck. You didn’t tell her that it was my idea, did you? I can’t have Mary finding out; I’ll be out on the street.”

     “First of all: you’re a massive dick,” Alexander said. “You deserve to be out on the street, and I probably will end up telling Mary at some point.”

     “Oh, come on, Alex–”

     “And second of all, don’t call–”

     “–you just said you did–”

     “–Eliza ‘the wife’. Just shut up for–”

     “–the same thing, you can’t – Oh, you’re–”

     “–one second and let me talk–”

     “–telling me to shut up? You, of–”

     “–please? James, please. For God’s–”

     “–all people?”

     “–sake.”

     There was a beat of silence. “Can you let me explain myself, please?” Alexander said. “I’m actually trying to open up here.”

     “Is that what the hooker said to you too?” James muttered into his coffee.

     Alexander back-handed him in the stomach. “He’s an _escort_. You said so yourself.”

     “Wait – _he_?”

     Alexander rolled his shoulders back, straightening his spine and lifting his nose. “Yes. He.”

     “It was a dude?”

     “Yes.”

     “Like, with a dick?”

     “Yes.”

     “So, what, are you gay now?”

     Alexander felt like punching James in the face. “James, that’s not funny. You know I’m bi. I came out to you when I was, like, thirteen.”

     “I know you’re bi. I’m just saying that to piss you off, because why the hell did you hire a _guy_?”

     Alexander gave James a confused look. “Um… because I’m bisexual? So the gender of the escort doesn’t really matter to me? And also he was really attractive?”

     James sighed, making a show, like Alexander had just made the dumbest mistake that anyone had ever made, ever. “You’re supposed to hire a _girl_. With a…” He gestured very vaguely to his own crotch. “A… lady part.”

     “It’s not called a ‘lady part’, it’s called a vagina.”

     James smacked him on the arm. “Dude, shut up. You can’t just say that.”

     “Oh, so you can say dick, but I can’t say _vagina_?”

     James took a few steps away, like he was embarrassed to be associated with Alexander. “Can you just… can you not be so _on_ , all the time? Like, take a chill pill, or whatever the kids say?”

     Alexander snorted. “You’re showing your age, James.”

     James threw him the bird. “You’re not far behind.” He huffed. “My point is, you’re supposed to hire a lady so you can get excited about your own lady again. Not a dude. That’d just get you amped up about dudes.”

     “No, that’s not…” Alexander waved his hand, wiping the conversation away. “I just actually wanted to say something to you this morning, can you just listen to me for two seconds? I have to leave for work in, like, less than five minutes.”

     James shifted, took a sip of his coffee, and shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Fine. What is it?”

     “It’s about the escort.”

     James gave Alexander an expectant look. “Yeah, I gathered. What about her– him? It? Whatever.”

     “He’s not an ‘it’,” Alexander said, mildly disgusted. “His name is John.”

     “That’s a weird name for an escort.”

     “It’s his real name.”

     James squinted in bewilderment. “His real name? How the hell do you know that?”

     “He told me.” Alexander would have been lying if he said he didn’t preen a little in pride at that.

     “Are you sure it’s his actual real name and not just one he tells you so you can calm down and actually get down to business?”

     Alexander’s shoulders drooped. He hadn’t thought of that. “Oh. I… No, I’m sure it was real. He was real.”

     “Uh-huh,” James muttered.

     “He was! We just talked the whole time. He was really nice and funny and everything.”

     “The whole package, right?” James gave Alexander a wink.

     Alexander just stared at him. “You think he was faking.”

     “Of course he was faking! You would’ve been fucking nervous, yeah? He probably has clients like you all the time. So he has a second fake name at the ready, some fake-ass backstory. A few cute laughs, some caring smiles, and then he gets to walk home with money in his pocket without having to do any work.”

     Alexander felt something break inside his chest a little. “No,” he protested, although he sounded weak to his own ears. “We… We made out. He _wanted_ to make out with me.”

     James put a hand on Alexander’s shoulder. “He’s an actor, dude. It’s his job.” He let Alexander go and took a drink. “But I’m surprised you didn’t do anything more than make out. Why would you throw away your money like that?”

     “It still worked,” Alexander snapped defensively, feeling a little like a petulant child.

     James shrugged. “Okay, great. Problem solved.”

     “It worked for Eliza as well,” Alexander added heatedly.

     James looked a little confused. “Okay, great,” he said again, slowly.

     Alexander stood up tall again. “I mean, _he_ worked for Eliza as well.”

     James’ frown deepened. “The fuck you mean by that?”

     “I mean Eliza went and hired him, then _they_ made out, and then Eliza came home and we had fantastic sex on the kitchen floor.”

     James glanced warily around them at the other people trying to enjoy their morning coffees, before moving in close to Alexander. “What the fuck did you just say?” he hissed. “ _Eliza_ hired the same guy? How do you know?”

     “Because we arranged the whole thing together,” Alexander said.

     James’ eyes went wide. “Bullshit.”

     “Nope,” Alexander said, shaking his head. “She helped me book him, and then she booked him – well, I didn’t know about that, not until afterwards – and then we had sex. It was pretty great.”

     James shook his head. “You’re a fuckin’ weirdo,” he muttered.

     “And now I maybe kinda have a crush on the escort.”

     James looked ready to fall asleep for a thousand years. “You… have a crush on the escort,” he repeated, deadpanned.

     Alexander went sheepish again. “Kinda, yeah.”

     “What, like you’re fourteen?”

     “Yeah.”

     “Then hire him again.”

     “No, I don’t want to. Eliza and I haven’t agreed to that. That wasn’t part of the deal.”

     “Fucking hell – then talk to her again!”

     “I don’t want to admit that I have a crush on the escort that we both hired!”

     “Do you _actually_ have a crush on him, Alexander? Or is it just you feeling unfulfilled because you didn’t get all up in that sweet little ass the first time?”

     “It may be a little bit of both!”

     James just shook his head, chuckling to himself. He checked his watch. “Let me know when you’ve decided not to be a dumb fucking idiot,” he said in farewell, and lumbered away, leaving Alexander feeling worse than he had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the whole thing about james suggesting that john might have just been acting isn't at all addressed in the actual tv show, it's just something that sprung to mind as soon as Izzy told Jack that her name was Izzy. Maybe that's bc i've seen Secret Diary of a Call Girl (the one with Billie Piper), and she uses a similar tactic to calm down nervous clients. but don't worry, it's not gonna be a whole 'thing'.  
> also, i've thought about it, and i've gone ahead and sped up the slow burn so it's not a SLOOOOOOOOOW burn like it was. there's still a few shorter chapters until things actually start happening, but it's happening, guys! i promise! x


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gah i'm sorry about the wait! uni just keeps getting in the way!  
> just a few more chapters until the trio reunites x

     The morning air was crisp. Eliza was still warm from her yoga class with Hercules, but she could feel tendrils of cold air seeping through her yoga pants. She watched her breath curl up into the air in front of her, her hands wrapped around the takeaway coffee cup. She didn’t usually go for mochas, but she’d decided to treat herself that morning.

     “How’s the mocha?” Hercules asked as Eliza pressed the lid to her lips.

     Eliza took a drink, humming in response. “Really nice, actually. It’s almost dangerous – I might find myself getting more mochas from there.”

     Hercules nodded in understanding. “Yeah, Laf had a mocha from there once and, boom, that was it. But he only gets them from there, though. He says it’s the only place that ‘properly captures the essence of a true mocha’.” He rolled his eyes, smiling fondly, and took a drink from his coffee.

     Eliza chuckled, and the two settled into companionable silence as they wandered along the path. Eliza studied the fallen leaves, a carpet of shades of brown and red and orange. She could hear children playing faintly up ahead, on the play equipment that she knew lay there, nestled in the bare trees.

     “What was it you wanted to talk about?” Hercules asked, adjusting the beanie on his head.

     Eliza felt her stomach fold in on itself uncomfortably. “Oh. Yeah. That.” She laughed a little at herself.

     “What’s up?”

     Eliza struggled to form a coherent sentence, her own reluctance to confess what was on her mind warring with the desire to discuss her situation with someone. “I… Well, you know how me and Alexander – we’ve been having… troubles.”

     “Neither of you can metaphorically keep it up, yeah.”

     Eliza gave Hercules a look. “It’s not like that.”

     Hercules shrugged a shoulder. “I know, I know. You’re not… connecting with each other. Physically.”

     Eliza nodded. “Right. So, Alexander was talking about it with his brother James–”

     Hercules pulled a face. “Um, ew? Who talks to their brother about this shit?”

     Eliza raised her eyebrows. “That’s what I said. Anyway, so, yeah, they talked about it, and James said–”

     “Can I just add that James is a cock.”

     “Yes, we all agree on that. But _anyway_ –”

     “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

     “ _Anyway_.” Eliza took a breath. “James basically said that, to fix it, Alexander should hire an escort.”

     Hercules stopped walking, and stared at Eliza with wide eyes. “Oh, no,” he said. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. How did you find out? Do you want me to kick his ass for you? Because I will; you know I will. That son of a bitch will be in hospital by the time I’m done with him. You can do so much better than him. He was fucking annoying, anyway.”

     Eliza laughed. “You’re too good to me.”

     “Why are you laughing? I’m serious.”

     “Because he didn’t cheat on me.”

     Hercules blinked. “Oh,” he said, and continued walking. After a pause, he said, “I stand by what I said, though. He can be really fucking annoying. I love him, but he drives me insane.”

     Eliza patted his arm. “He drives us all insane,” she said comfortingly. “But what I wanted to say, was that Alexander hired an escort – with my permission,” she added quickly, before Hercules could say something. “We discussed it, and decided it was the way to go. I didn’t see the harm in it, anyway.”

     Hercules didn’t look convinced. “I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

     Eliza hesitated. “Well, Alexander said that he and the escort – a boy named John, he’s twenty-one – didn’t really do much, except make out a little. I mean, it did help; it did, y’know, rally the troops, so the speak. But I could see that Alexander actually really liked this kid. Like, _really_ liked him.”

     Hercules grimaced. “Oh dear.”

     Eliza held up a finger. “It’s not what you’re thinking. So, to figure out _why_ Alexander liked John so much, I, uh, hired John myself.”

     Hercules’ mouth fell open. “Are you serious? You… What?”

     Eliza couldn’t help but laugh a little at his expression. “Yeah. So–”

     “What is it that the kids say? ‘She did that’?”

     “ _So_ , John and I met up at a bar, and we got talking, and…” Eliza tucked her hair behind her ear. “Well, he was… lovely, actually.”

     Hercules raised an eyebrow. “‘Lovely’.”

     “Yes. He certainly knew how to do his job.”

     Hercules moved to the side, as if physically repulsed by her. “Eliza! You didn’t–”

     “No! I just meant – he – he was, y’know, flirty. Charming,” Eliza explained hurriedly. “Attractive. In more ways than one.”

     Hercules frowned. “So you didn’t sleep with him?” he said slowly, trying to piece everything together.

     Eliza shook her head. “No. I’d never intended to.”

     “But…”

     “But I may have kissed him.”

     Hercules tutted and rolled his eyes. “ _Eliza_ ,” he scolded.

     Eliza shrugged sheepishly. “I couldn’t help it! He was really damn attractive! And I could tell – I mean, I think there was a kind of spark there. I think he was, on some level, attracted to me, too.”

     “It’s his job, Eliza.”

     “No, but really. More than his job. I think he might have liked me.”

     Hercules sighed, looking at Eliza pityingly. “Honey, you’re just imagining it. It’s his job to make you feel special. That’s why Alexander felt it, too.”

     Eliza scowled a little. “You weren’t there.”

     “Damn right, I wasn’t,” Hercules muttered, and took a sip of his drink.

     “And I’ve kinda been… fantasising about him a little,” Eliza added in a very small voice.

     Hercules looked slightly alarmed. “No.”

     “I’m not–” Eliza breathed out sharply. “I’m not going to, y’know, leave Alexander for him, or whatever. But, _God_ , he was so…” She made a gesture with her free hand, as if trying to grasp the word she was looking for. “ _Ugh_ , he was so – you know?”

     “Hot?” Hercules offered.

     “I mean, yes, he was, but there was just something about him, and it’s driving me insane.”

     “Well, are you and Alexander…?”

     “Yes. We are. A lot.”

     “And is that because of Alexander, or because of the rent boy?”

     Eliza gave Hercules a scathing look, but it hardly held any heat. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “I mean, I keep thinking about John, and it’s making me all…” She rolled her shoulders in an exaggerated shiver. “And then I come home and I’m just super in the mood, and then Alexander’s in the mood, too, and we just…”

     “But are you thinking about him during sex?”

     Eliza thought about it. “Not really,” she said. “No. Maybe once or twice, just a flash here or there. But not as a replacement to Alexander. More like he’s there as well.”

     “ _Oh_ ,” Hercules said, nodding like he’d had an epiphany. “You want a threesome.”

     Eliza blushed scarlet. “Uh–”

     “That’s okay, hon, all married couples go through that stage.” Hercules rubbed her back. “Some couples go through with it, some don’t. I don’t think there’s harm either way. Laf and I – well, we certainly had our fun times, back in the day. Not so much anymore. I mean, our times are still fun, if you know what I mean, but I don’t need a third person – with Laf, sometimes it feels like there’s five people there.”

     Eliza chuckled. “So you don’t think I’m terrible?”

     “Not at all,” Hercules said. “But I’d talk about it with Alexander.”

     “You think so?”

     “Yeah. Better to be safe than sorry.”

     Eliza smiled. “Yeah, all right. Thanks, Herc.”

     Hercules grinned. “Happy to help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this is a slow burn, but i'm very sorry if this burn is REAL slow. i've tried to cut it down as much as possible without making it seem like i'm jumping too much. i tend to get bogged down in details... but things will be picking up next chapter, and the chapter after! things will be happening! i promise! thank u all for not giving up on me xx


	12. Chapter 12

     “We need to talk,” Eliza said the next night.

     Alexander looked up from his dinner. “Hm? About what?”

     “About John.”

     Alexander had felt an involuntary blush spread across his face. “What about him?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound as guilty as he thought he did.

     Eliza cleared her throat and tucked some hair behind her ear. “I have a confession to make.”

     Alexander put down his cutlery.

     “I’ve been thinking about him.”

     Alexander’s chest burst with relief. “Oh, God,” he sighed, sitting back in his chair.

     Eliza’s brow wrinkled, and she stared at the table. “I know, I’m so sorry,” she said quickly. “I’ve been denying it all week but it keeps happening. I don’t know why. It doesn’t mean I don’t love you anymore, I promise. I don’t–”

     “Betsey,” Alexander said soothingly, taking her hand.

     Eliza looked at him. Her eyes were watery.

     “Betsey,” Alexander said again, “I’m not mad. I said ‘oh, God’ out of _relief_.”

     Eliza blinked. “Really?”

     “Yes. I’ve been thinking about him, too. All the time.”

     Eliza’s face blossomed with something akin to hope, with a mixture of relief of her own. “You have?”

     “Yes. I can’t stop thinking about him, and… and his face, and his smile, and his…” He took a breath, biting his lip. “His fucking body, damn.”

     “I know,” Eliza breathed. “The way he kissed me.”

     “Don’t even get me started,” Alexander said, and they both laughed.

     Eliza squeezed Alexander’s hand. “So what do we do now?”

     Alexander thought, and shrugged. “I don’t know. What do we _want_ to do?”

     Eliza stared at him. “I don’t know,” she said softly.

     They went to bed that night without speaking much, their minds both a flurry of questions that they had no answers to.


	13. Chapter 13

     John had meant every word when he’d said he was quitting escorting. And, to prove that he was turning over a new leaf, he started cleaning the apartment.

     To Martha’s credit, John did go through this process every once in a while. Say he was quitting for good, then cleaning the apartment top to bottom, eating more healthily, studying harder. It only ever lasted a week, max.

     But this time was different. Sure, maybe John wouldn’t keep everything spick and span, and his grades would always be solid Cs. But he was definitely quitting escorting. And maybe eating a salad every once in a while wouldn’t do him any harm, either.

     Martha let John do his thing, putting up no protest whatsoever. He’d spent the whole week moping, and now was scurrying around the house, wiping down surfaces and putting things into piles and throwing out old cans and bottles and takeout boxes and sweeping the floor.

     Then, on Sunday, when he’d finally finished the mammoth task, John sat down to have a beer and some Spaghetti Bolognese he’d thrown together – pasta was healthier than pizza, right? – and Martha sat down opposite him.

     “So,” she said.

     John gestured to the pot by the stove. “Yes, you can have some.”

     “That’s not what I was going to say, but thank you.” Martha helped herself to a bowl and sat down again. “You’ve finished cleaning,” she said.

     John stretched, working out the kink in his shoulder he’d gotten from scrubbing the coffee table. “Yup.”

     Martha nodded, shoving some pasta into her mouth.

     John gave her a look. “What?”

     “Nothing,” she said mildly.

     “Mattie, what is it?”

     “I’m just wondering if you’re done, y’know, pining after that old married couple, that’s all. If this–”

     “They’re not _old_ –”

     “–is a kind of metaphorical–”

     “–they’re just old _er_.”

     “–cleansing thing or whatever.”

     Martha waited for John to answer her question. He watched himself twirl pasta onto his fork, and then took a mouthful.

     “John.”

     “Mm?” John said innocently, his mouth stuffed.

     “Please don’t tell me you still think you actually have feelings for two random people you met once.”

     John pointed to his mouth as he chewed by way of explanation.

     Martha threw her hands in the air. “For fuck’s sake!”

     John made a series of noises of protest, pointing more vigorously to his mouth, chewing as fast as he could.

     “Oh, bullshit,” Martha said. “You can just shake your head yes or no. I can’t believe you.”

     John braced himself on the table, and then swallowed, wincing as it went down. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, and coughed a little. “Oh, God, I should have chewed that more,” he said in a slightly strangled voice, thudding on his chest with his fist. “Ugh, I can feel that going down. That is not a nice feeling.”

     Martha just watched him, her head cocked. “Are you done now?” she said. “Are you done talking about your fucking pasta?”

     “No one’s making you eat it,” John muttered.

     “Of course I’m fucking eating it, it’s good pasta–”

     “Thank you.”

     “That’s not the issue here, so stop pretending it is.”

     John sulked. “Why do you bully me like this?”

     “I’m not bullying you. It’s tough love. You’re such a baby, honestly.”

     “Can’t you just let me suffer in peace?”

     Martha sat back, jabbing at finger at him. “You’re still hung up on them! You confessed!”

     John rested his cheek on the heel of his hand and said nothing, staring glumly at his dinner.

     “ _How_ are you still hung up on them? That was, like, days ago.”

     “Because maybe I actually like them?” John looked up at Martha. “Maybe it’s more than just a temporary infatuation?”

     “You’re so dramatic,” Martha said with a roll of her eyes. “The more you think about them, the more you think you like them.”

     “I _do_ like them.”

     “Both of them? Really? At the same time?”

     “Yes. It’s not that hard to understand.”

     “Well, you’re gonna have to pick one of them.”

     John gave her a confused look. “What, pick one of them so I can be their mistress?”

     Martha shrugged a little in answer, like, _Yeah, I guess_.

     John clicked his tongue. “I’m not gonna do that, Mattie. That’s not cool.”

     “Well, then, what _are_ you gonna do?”

     John didn’t reply; he didn’t know what to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know it's been almost a month, i'm sorry. i've just been feeling very uninspired with all of my writing lately, and it sucks. thank you to all who've commented and read and left kudos and everything thus far. i'll try to work myself out of the ditch as soon as i can, because u guys are the best <3
> 
> shoutout to blahblahgirlie - your comment, coupled with the fact that i'm procrastinating homework atm, inspired me to metaphorically get off my ass and upload something for this fic. thank u <3 <3


	14. Chapter 14

     Eliza woke in the middle of the night to her husband patting her on the arm. “Betsey,” Alexander whispered. “Betsey, wake up.”

     Eliza grunted and blinked one eye open, squinting. “What is it?” she grumbled, her voice low and hoarse from sleep. Being woken up by Alexander in the dead of night wasn’t the most unusual thing – he often stayed up extremely late or woke up at bizarre hours with some idea in his head that he just had to get down on paper – but it didn’t make it any less annoying.

     “Let’s hire him,” Alexander whispered.

     Eliza sighed. “What?” she mumbled, too exhausted to try to comprehend anything at the moment. “Honey, can it wait till morning?”

     “Just – John is – he’s an escort, right? Like, we paid him and everything.”

     “Yeah…” Eliza said slowly.

     “So, like…” Alexander made a gesture with one hand. “Let’s hire him again.”

     Eliza groaned. “You woke me up for _this_?”

     “It’s important. We can discuss the details in the morning, but what do you think?”

     Eliza rolled over. “Yeah, yeah, great,” she muttered, and passed out again instantly.

     The next morning – a Monday morning – Alexander bound down the stairs. Alexander always loved it when Monday rolled around; he craved the feeling of just being slightly overwhelmed by work. Eliza was less than happy, but she liked her job well enough. Her boss had been dropping hints that she was up for a promotion, so that meant that she at least pretended to like it a little more.

     “So?” Alexander said. “What time frame were you thinking? A month, maybe? Just to, I don’t know, try it out?”

     “Huh?” Eliza said. She hadn’t even finished her cup of coffee.

     “John,” Alexander said.

     Something vague floated in Eliza’s memory. “Oh. You asked me last night, right?”

     “Yes,” Alexander said, a little exasperatedly.

     Eliza gave him a wry smile. “What were you doing up in the wee hours of the morning with John on your mind?”

     Alexander’s face went red. “That’s not relevant,” he said. “But I was serious, honey. We should… We should hire him again. For a while. A more long-term thing.”

     Eliza thought about it. It was a huge step, and it was a pretty sudden decision, but… “Why not,” she said with a shrug. “I mean, if we’re both serious about this.”

     “I am,” Alexander said firmly.

     “And I am too.” Eliza set down her mug. “Six weeks?”

     Alexander nodded, reaching for his phone in his back pocket. “And I guess we’ll be… dating him together? If he agrees with that? Hopefully we won’t have to pay double.”

     Eliza nodded. “Yeah,” she said, a little vaguely. Something about discussing money along with discussing dating someone felt off to her. “Yeah, both of us. If he’s okay with it.”

     “I guess we’ll go from there,” Alexander said. “I’ll text him.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am literally about to fall asleep where I sit but I thought I'd chuck in a few more chapters. i know this one is super short but i couldn't figure out a way to integrate it in a way i liked. the next chapter will feature elams in all its glory, and will be much longer than normal! coming soon xx

     Monday night.

     After the casual conversation of _how was work_ and _do you have a busy week lined up_ , both Eliza and Alexander could feel tension rising in the room.

     They were expecting their guest any minute now. The cheque they’d had written out sat on the kitchen bench, painfully obvious and ugly. But this was a business arrangement, after all. They didn’t want to cheat John out of anything, and Hercules and James were right – it was John’s job. It was John’s job to make them feel happy and special and wanted.

     Still. There were many butterflies in stomachs in those minutes leading up to John’s arrival.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOPS anyway i'm back here u go x

     John thanked his Uber driver and climbed out, backpack slung over one shoulder and phone in the opposite hand. He checked the street number for the thousandth time, and stepped up to the bottom steps leading up onto the porch.

     It was a nice house. A nice neighbourhood, from what John could see in the dark. Very suburban.

     He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so nervous. He felt like he was about to walk into an exam room without having studied at all. No, he’d done that before – this was way worse.

     His heart had just about jumped out of his chest when he’d received the text from Alexander, inviting him over to ‘discuss some matters’. He hadn’t told Martha; part of him was worried what she would say.

     Questions clamoured in his head, clawing at the insides of his skull. _Why did they want him to come over? Did he do something wrong? Did he do something right? Were they going to do something crazy like tie him up in a basement?_

     And, worst of all: _Did they maybe just want to see him?_ _Like he desperately wanted to see them?_

     John adjusted his top – he’d dressed well for the occasion – and made his way up the steps. He tried to stop his hands from trembling.

     He pressed the doorbell. _Oh, fuck_ , he thought to himself, bobbing up and down on the spot in an attempt to dispel some nerves. _Oh fuck, this was a bad idea_.

     That’s what he told himself, anyway. In reality, he was just as excited as he was anxious. After all, while the worst case scenario was probably Eliza and Alexander murdering him, the _best_ case scenario would be a hot-ass threesome.

     He wasn’t really expecting either.

     The door opened, and John felt his gut lurch.

     Eliza stood there, Alexander behind her, and John’s heart stuttered. “Hi,” he said, hoping his smile wasn’t shaky.

     Eliza smiled warmly. “John, thank you for coming. Come in.”

     John stepped inside the house, gazing around. “Nice place,” he said.

     “Thank you,” Eliza said. “Um, did you want a drink, or…?”

     “Nah, I’m all right, thanks,” John said, although he could really do for some whiskey right about now. Or a couple of tequila shots.

     He glanced between Eliza and Alexander. They were just as gorgeous as he remembered; somehow even more so now that he was looking at them next to each other. Like they fed off each other’s energy.

     It comforted him to see that they were clearly just as nervous as he was. Alexander kept smoothing down his shirt – wiping his clammy palms – and Eliza wrung her hands every few seconds.

     “We wanted–” Alexander cut himself off and gestured to the couch. “Sorry. We should – you can sit down.”

     All three of them went to the couch, and sat down. There were a few seconds of silence before Alexander tried again. “We, uh…”

     John took a steady breath, and blurted out, “I have weed.”

     Eliza and Alexander blinked. “Oh,” Eliza said.

     John flushed. Way to make himself out to be the typical college kid. “I just… I don’t know about you guys, but I’m really fucking…” He shook out his hands. “Fuckin’ antsy, or whatever. I have weed, in my bag? Did you guys want some?”

     Eliza and Alexander glanced at each other, and to John it felt like twenty years before Eliza nodded and said, “Please.”

 

     There wasn’t much conversation until the weed kicked in. Alexander and Eliza inhaled the stuff like they couldn’t wait for the effects to take hold. John had to admit he was taking more than two puffs before passing on the vape.

     He wasn’t expecting a married couple from the suburbs to know anything about weed, much less be able to smoke it like a pro, but he was pleasantly surprised.

     “You guys know what you’re doing,” he remarked as he passed the vape to Eliza. He was seated on the floor, his back against the couch, in between where Eliza and Alexander were slumped on the couch.

     “We used to smoke in college,” Eliza explained.

     “We weren’t addicted,” Alexander said. “It wasn’t a daily thing. But, y’know, we got experience.”

     John nodded. “You guys been together since college, huh?”

     “Mm-hm,” Alexander said. “Met in college. I met Eliza through her sister, actually.”

     Eliza snorted, and took a puff, letting the smoke drift from her lips as she spoke. “Yeah. You guys went out on one date before Angie dropped your ass. You’re lucky I took pity on you. My sister can be a harsh critic.”

     “Rightly so,” Alexander said, making a grabby hand at the vape. Eliza passed it to him. “Always good to be a harsh critic.”

     John nodded again. He had to admit it was more than a little daunting, being somehow involved with a couple with that much history. “Cool,” he said nonchalantly.

     Alexander sat up suddenly. “Wait.”

     Eliza giggled. “What?” she said.

     John couldn’t help but laugh at her giggle. It was so cute.

     Alexander looked to John. “You’re here for a _reason_.”

     “Oh, shit, yeah,” Eliza said. She fixed her slouched posture on the couch. “John, we like you.”

     John’s heart _pitter patter_ ed, and he twisted around to face them. “Yeah? Like, what? You think I’m all right?”

     “More than all right,” Alexander said. “We were…” He paused, looking to his wife. “Um, you did good. With your job.”

     “Thanks,” John said with a goofy smile. “Glad I could help.”

     “You helped,” Eliza said seriously, nodding. “You very much helped.”

     “We want to hire you,” Alexander said.

     John told himself that his shoulders didn't droop a little at that. “Oh,” he said, feigning polite interest.

     “For six weeks,” Alexander continued. “Just–”

     “For a trial run,” Eliza said.

     “–a trial run, yeah.”

     “A… trial run?” John repeated.

     “Like, to see if we can make it work,” Eliza explained vaguely.

     John shook his head, still confused, and automatically reached for the vape, which Alexander passed to him. He took a puff, and said, “Wait, I’m confused. Make what work?”

     Alexander got to his feet, stumbling a little, and went over to the kitchen counter, bringing back a slip of paper. “Six weeks,” he said again, passing the paper to John. “We both date you for six weeks.”

     John took the paper – a cheque – and his eyes widened dramatically at the figure. “Whoa, you’re paying the whole six weeks upfront?”

     “Do we have to pay double if it’s both of us?” Eliza said.

     John shook his head. “Um, no, no, that’s fine,” he said, still dumbstruck by the figure in front of his eyes.

     “So?” Alexander said. “Deal or no deal? You don’t have to say yes.”

     John hesitated. He couldn’t believe he was hesitating.

     He’d told Martha he’d given up with escorting. And he’d meant it. He didn’t want to do it anymore.

     Did this count as escorting? Yes, of course it did, he was being paid to go on dates with people.

     But it was _them_. And anyway, no way could he turn down six weeks’ payment upfront.

     Something about it felt off. Not in a _I’m getting myself into a dangerous situation_ way, but in a _It would be better if this wasn’t a business arrangement_ way.

     Clearly, Alexander and Eliza liked him.

     But not on more than a professional level, it seemed.

     John sighed. He was stupid to expect anything else. Eliza and Alexander had come to him, both of them sexually frustrated – of course they’d smiled at him like that and kissed him like that.

     John smiled. “Yes. I accept.”

     “Great!” Alexander said. There was a beat, and he held his hand out as if he was going for a handshake, and then thought better. “Great,” he said again.

     John took the lull in conversation as his queue to make an exit. “Well,” he said, rising and reaching for his backpack, “I’ll leave you guys to it…”

     “Wait,” Eliza said, taking his hand. John felt a spark go through him.

     Eliza pulled him down gently, and he sat down on the couch, in between them.

     He swallowed, suddenly realising how close both of them were to him. He was almost sitting on Alexander’s lap, Alexander’s arm behind his head across the back to the couch. Eliza was still holding his hand, a little on her knees, at the perfect height for tilting John’s chin up to kiss him.

     They seemed to realise it, too. They glanced at each other, and then they smiled, a little giddily almost, and looked back to John. “Hi,” Alexander said.

     John smiled back. “Hi.”

     Alexander settled more into the couch – more into John, their thighs pressing together. John was itching to reach over and put his hand on Alexander’s thigh. His knee, at least. Would that be out of line? Too soon?

     John’s eyes drifted up Alexander’s body, hovering on his throat, and up to his face, to where Alexander’s warm chocolate eyes were watching him, a small smile on his lips.

     John flushed, and glanced away. His eyes flicked up to Eliza, who was also watching him, with the same look as Alexander, her eyes dark. “Are you free this week, John?”

     John took a breath in. “Yep,” he said, his voice a little tight. His name rolled off Eliza’s tongue in a way that John would be thinking about for a long time.

     “Can you do this coming Friday night?”

     John nodded. “Sure can.”

     “Great.” Eliza hesitated, and then seemed to check herself, looking away. “We’ll, um, pick you up at seven-ish?”

     “I’ll text you my address,” John replied.

     He stood up again, and reached for his backpack. He wavered, feeling a little awkward at leaving so suddenly. “Um, thanks,” he said.

     “We’ll let you out,” Alexander said, rising and heading to the door, Eliza close behind.

     Eliza opened the door, and John thanked her. Just as he was about to leave, Alexander said, “John.”

     John turned around. “Yeah?”

     Alexander stepped up to him and took his hand, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. John’s heart leapt and flipped, and when Alexander pulled away, John chased the kiss a little.

     Alexander glanced over his shoulder, and Eliza took his place, tugging John over to her by his other hand to kiss him softly.

     John felt a little dazed.

     “See you on Friday,” Eliza murmured.

     John nodded wordlessly. “Yeah,” he managed to get out. “Yeah, um, good.”

     Alexander squeezed his hand, and let go, stepping back. “Get home safe.”

     “You too,” John said, and cringed. “Um, I mean, thanks.”

     Eliza chuckled and waved goodbye, and John hurried down the porch steps onto the dimly-lit street, calling for an Uber.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and i'm back from the dead. this chapter took, like, over a month to get out. and by 'over a month', i mean, i wrote like two sentences over a month ago, and then the rest of it today. but i'm just pausing my writing to post this, and then i'll get back to writing more for you. and i won't make any promises this time that i won't keep, other than this story is NOT being abandoned! i've decided it will be a lot shorter than when i first got the idea for this fic, but we still have a while to go yet. this chapter has a big change from the show this fic is based on, and it was a spontaneous decision, but here u go! xx

     The Hamiltons had dinner with the Lafayette-Mulligans on Wednesday night; it was the only night that all four of them had been able to spare two or so hours in about three weeks.

     Alexander adored Hercules and Lafayette. He’d only met them when they’d moved in across the street from them five years back, but somehow, they were able to tolerate Alexander’s often overwhelmingly passionate personality – Lafayette wasn’t as talkative, but he was almost as fiery as Alexander when he felt like it – and the friendship had grown from there.

     The dinner had gone just as well as it always did, when Hercules put down his knife and fork and said, “So are we going to talk about the escort that you both hired at some point, or are we just going to let that one slide?”

     Alexander rounded on Eliza, who choked on her drink. “You _told_ them?”

     “I told _Herc_.”

     “Oh, please, _mon ami_ ,” Lafayette said, “it is not as if you’re Fort Knox, either.”

     Alexander sighed. “All right, I guess that’s true,” he grumbled.

     Eliza cleared her throat and took another sip of wine. “What’s there to talk about?” she said, trying to sound nonchalant and utterly failing.

     “Have you had a threesome yet?” Lafayette asked.

     “Or at least _talked_ about it?” Hercules added.

     Alexander and Eliza glanced at each other, matching blushes crawling across their cheeks. “Well…” Alexander began.

     “It’s, um…”

     “We – I mean, we _haven’t_ , not in the…”

     “Yes, no, well, there’s been…”

     “Not that there’s been, y’know, anything–”

     “No, no, of course, that’s not what I’m saying–”

     “Oh my God, just spit it out,” Hercules cut in.

     Alexander screwed up his face. “We hired him for six weeks and we’re going on a date on Friday,” he blurted out, like ripping off a bandaid.

     “Six _weeks_?” Lafayette said. “You’re planning on having _six threesomes_ with the _same guy_?”

     Eliza squawked. “No!” she said. “It’s just dates. Just normal dates.”

     “That is the opposite of what I said to do,” Hercules said, looking thoroughly perplexed.

     “Well, that’s what we’ve decided,” Eliza said, holding her head high.

     Lafayette and Hercules glanced at each other. “Okay…” Lafayette said slowly.

     “Stop it,” Alexander said.

     “Stop what?”

     “Judging us.”

     Hercules and Lafayette glanced at each other again.

     “Stop,” Eliza said.

     “We’re allowed to look at each other,” Hercules protested.

     “Not with those little judgy eyes,” Alexander said.

     Lafayette rolled his eyes. “Please. You cannot be surprised by our reactions.”

     “Herc said you guys had loads of threesomes before,” Eliza said.

     Lafayette shot Hercules a disbelieving look, and Hercules hastily corrected, “I’ve said we’ve _had our fun in the past_. I didn’t say we’ve had _loads of threesomes_.”

     Eliza threw her hands in the air. “Oh, come on, what else was that–”

     “And that was different. You guys–”

     “–supposed to mean in context?”

     “–are _dating_ someone. You’re paying someone to date you. It’s very different from a couple of – of alcohol- and drug-fuelled threesomes back in college with various cute random boys.”

     “So you _did_ have loads of threesomes,” Alexander said.

     “We never said _loads_ ,” Lafayette said.

     “We were popular,” Hercules amended. “That’s all I’m gonna say.”

     “Well,” Eliza said, taking a sip of her wine, “either way, that doesn’t concern us. And what we do shouldn’t concern you. I mean…” She put down her wine glass and gestured vaguely. “I mean, I’m not – I’m not saying don’t stick your nose in our business, because you’re our friends and we _want_ you to know about our lives, but what I’m saying is–”

     “Butt out,” Alexander cut in.

     “No, that’s not – Alexander, why would you–?”

     Alexander shrugged, pulling a face. “I thought that’s what you were…”

     “That’s not what I meant,” Eliza said. “Just that, while we value your opinion, it’s also our lives. Ours. And we…” She took Alexander’s hand. “We want this.”

     Lafayette and Hercules glanced at each other, and then Hercules sighed, shrugging. “She’s right,” he said to his husband.

     Lafayette nodded. “She is, that is true.” He took a sip of wine. “Okay,” he said slowly, narrowing his eyes in thought. “So this boy–”

     “He’s not a _boy_ , Laf, Jesus,” Alexander amended, a little aghast.

     “So this… young man…”

     “That sounds so weird,” Eliza muttered.

     “This, how you say, this _guy_ ,” Lafayette said exasperatedly. “This _guy_ is going to become a part of your lives.”

     “We don’t know how serious it might get,” Alexander said hurriedly. “I mean, we both really like him, but we don’t really know him.”

     “It must be serious if you’re paying him,” Hercules said wryly.

     Eliza and Alexander didn’t have anything to say in response to that. Both of them were thinking that perhaps, one day, it would all go well enough that they wouldn’t _have_ to pay John – that they could just date him – but neither was brave enough to voice it. It was a terrifying prospect.

     “Back to my original question,” Lafayette continued. “When are we going to get to meet him?”

     Alexander and Eliza spluttered. “Well, it’s hardly–”

     “We haven’t even officially–”

     “–like _that_ just–”

     “–started dating yet, it’s–”

     “–yet, is it?”

     “–not that serious or anything.”

     “I get it,” Hercules said, holding his hands out placatingly. “It’s like introducing him to the parents. You want to make sure.”

     Eliza went pale. “Oh God,” she whispered, putting her hand in her hands. “What if we have to introduce him to my _parents_?”

     “Okay, I think we’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves,” Alexander said with a nervous chuckle, patting his wife’s hand. “All in good time, honey.”

     “ _Oui_ , cross that bridge if you get to it,” Lafayette said. He grinned. “Do you at least have a photo?”

     “Uh,” Alexander said, glancing to his wife. “Well, there’s the–”

     Eliza nodded, following his train of thought. “There’s only really the photo on the–”

     “–the website?” Alexander looked to his friends. “On the– the website where I– where we found him.”

     “It’s not like we have photos of him on our phones or anything,” Eliza said with a laugh.

     “Okay, well, show us,” Hercules said, waving a hand.

     Alexander fumbled for his phone, and looked up the website, then scrolled until he found John’s profile.

     Taking a small breath to calm himself – not entirely sure why he was so nervous to begin with – he handed the phone to Lafayette. Hercules peered over Lafayette’s shoulder as the two of them closely inspected the profile.

     “Just– Just look at the photo,” Alexander said quickly, reaching an arm out for the phone. “You don’t need to see the rest of it.”

     Lafayette held the phone closer to his chest, out of Alexander’s reach. “We’ll look at what we want,” he said petulantly. He gasped. “Oh, he’s _cute_! Herc, look at him!”

     “He _is_ cute,” Hercules said, nodding in approval.

     “Mm-hm,” Lafayette hummed with a smirk, waggling his eyebrows. He looked to his friends. “You two have good taste in men. You are…” He frowned at his husband. “What is the word that means they, how you say, go for young people?”

     “Cradle-snatchers?” Hercules offered.

     Lafayette smiled triumphantly. “ _Oui_. You two are cradle-snatchers.”

     Eliza snorted. “I wouldn’t go _that_ far.”

     “You have to admit, he is quite a bit on the young side,” Hercules said with a raised eyebrow. He looked at the profile again. “Twenty-one? That’s, what…” He made a face as he thought. “Thirteen years younger than you both?”

     Eliza and Alexander were sporting matching blushes by this point. “We’re not… _cradle-snatchers_ ,” Eliza said, embarrassed.

     “Cougars, then,” Hercules supplied with a shit-eating smile.

     “Cougars?” Lafayette asked.

     “It’s another word for cradle-snatchers,” Hercules explained. “Basically.”

     Alexander sniffed. “Okay, I’ll take that,” he said, his nose high. “Cougars is better than cradle-snatchers.”

     “Good,” Hercules said. “Because it’s what you are.”

     “I cannot blame them, though, _mon amor_ ,” Lafayette said, gazing at John’s profile. He scrolled down a little. “It says his name is Chase?”

     “That’s his alias,” Eliza explained. “Like a stage name.”

     “A stage name for _baise_ ,” Lafayette said with a snort.

     “For what?” Eliza said.

     Alexander rolled his eyes. “Fucking,” he explained.

     “Is he a college student?” Hercules asked, as Lafayette cooed over John’s freckles.

     “He studies psychology,” Alexander said, and Eliza looked to him, taken aback by the touch of pride in his voice.

     Alexander looked back at her. “What?”

     Eliza smiled widely, and shook her head. “Nothing,” she said softly, lifting his hand to press a kiss to it.

     "Will he still be... working, with other, uh, clients, while you're hiring him?" Hercules asked.

     Alexander and Eliza looked to each other. "We actually hadn't thought of that," Alexander confessed.

     "I suppose... it  _is_ his job," Eliza said, raising her eyebrows in questioning, checking with her husband that they were on the same wavelength.

     "Right," Alexander said, nodding. "It's not like he's telling us to put  _our_ jobs on hold."

     "And we wouldn't... have an issue, right?"

     "No," Alexander said, shaking his head, looking back to Lafayette and Hercules. "No, we wouldn't have an issue. It's his job, and we're just a part of his job. Even if we like him. That's not up to us to decide what he can and can't do."

     “What are the other escorts like?” Lafayette said, tapping on the phone.

     “Oh, no, you don’t,” Hercules said, taking the phone away. “We are _not_ going down that rabbit hole.”

     “I’m not saying we should _hire_ one,” Lafayette said. “I just want to look.”

     “Absolutely not.” Hercules handed Alexander’s phone back to him.

     Lafayette pouted. “You are not fun.”

     Hercules patted his thigh. “Just think of the _future_ , my love,” he said pointedly.

     Lafayette nodded. “I know. I know.” He gave Hercules a peck on the lips.

     “The future?” Alexander said, stealing a glance at John’s profile – a feeling of _good God he’s attractive_ swooping down his spine as he did so – before pocketing his phone.

     Lafayette and Hercules looked to each other, Lafayette biting his bottom lip. They seemed to have an intense silent debate, before Hercules took a breath in and said, “We weren’t gonna tell you until later. I didn’t want this to turn into some kind of announcement dinner or something–”

     “We’re adopting a baby,” Lafayette blurted.

     Eliza’s hands flew to her mouth as she gasped in shock, and Alexander’s eyes went wide. “You’re _what_?” he cried.

     Hercules gripped Lafayette’s hands, and the two of them beamed. “We’ve been going through bureaucratic hell for a few weeks now,” Hercules said. “It’s all really up in the air at the moment, but we met our future daughter, hopefully, if it all goes to plan.” He let out a shaky breath. “Our future daughter,” he repeated, dazed.

     Eliza squealed and flew from her seat to give Hercules and Lafayette crushing hugs, and Alexander joined her, hugging his friends warmly. “I’m so happy for you,” he said, feeling a knot in his throat that he refused to release. He was _not_ going to cry.

     “Oh my God,” Eliza said. She shook her head, and then gave Hercules another hug. “Oh, this is wonderful.”

     “Do you have any photos of the baby?” Alexander asked.

     Lafayette went for his phone. “She is not really a baby, actually,” he said, flicking through his photos. “She’s four.” He handed his phone over, and Eliza and Alexander drank in the photo eagerly.

     Eliza gasped. “Is she in a wheelchair? What happened?”

     Hercules huffed a laugh. “Nothing _happened_. She has cerebral palsy. It’s not severe; it doesn’t affect her speech or stuff like that. The physiotherapist said that one day, she’ll be able to walk with crutches or a walker, and she’ll need splints–”

     “They’re these plastic things that go in her shoes,” Lafayette explained. “They’ll help support her legs.”

     “–and it’ll be a lot of hard work, working on her core and everything, but we just immediately fell in love with her.”

     “Her name’s Henrietta,” Lafayette said. “Henrietta Sarah Lafayette-Mulligan. Or, it will be. Right now it’s just Henrietta.”

     “How dare you two let us talk about our relationship troubles when you’re literally adopting a child,” Alexander said with a laugh. “Oh my God. She’s gorgeous.”

     “She’s beautiful,” Eliza agreed, nodding emphatically, passing the phone back.

     Lafayette lay his head on Hercules’ shoulder, and Hercules put his hand on Lafayette’s cheek. “She is,” Hercules said.

     “Does she know that you’re going to adopt her?” Alexander asked.

     “Um, kind of,” Hercules said.

     Lafayette pressed a kiss to Hercules’ shoulder and straightened up. “She knows that she will be seeing a lot more of us in the future. But the adoption process is so long, and there is so much paperwork…”

     “We figured it would be better to tell her a little closer to when it’s all being finalised,” Hercules finished. “So she’s not kept waiting, you know?”

     Eliza grabbed her wineglass and held it high. “To Herc and Laf, and their little girl Henrietta. I can’t wait to see what brilliant fathers you’ll both be.”

     Alexander raised his glass. “Hear, hear!” he said.

     Hercules and Lafayette lifted their glasses, their smiles lighting up the entire room. “To Alex and Eliza,” Hercules said. “May you find happiness with John, no matter how weird everyone, including us, thinks your relationship may be. And may you one day get to prove just what incredible parents you’ll be, too.”

     Four glasses were clinked together with a resonating sense of triumph and joy.

 

     Much later that night – or rather, very, very early the next morning – Eliza and Alexander finally made it home, more than a little tipsy.

     Eliza dumped her handbag on the counter. “Well,” she said with a sigh. “I dunno about you, but I am ready for bed.”

     “Right behind you, honey,” Alexander said.

     But neither of them moved. Eliza stared at her hands; Alexander at his wife.

     Eliza looked up at Alexander. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

     Alexander nodded, smiling. “It’s terrific. I’m so happy for them.”

     “They deserve it.”

     “Absolutely. No one will make better parents. They were born to raise a family. And the little girl, Henrietta–”

     “She was beautiful,” Eliza said happily.

     “–she’ll be so loved,” Alexander agreed. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

     “Neither can I,” Eliza said. “We’ll spoil her to bits.”

     There were a few more beats of silence, now both of them staring at the floor. Neither husband nor wife wanted to voice their thoughts.

     Then Alexander took away the choice. He sniffed wetly.

     Eliza’s head snapped towards him. “Oh, Alexander…”

     Alexander pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, I’m fine,” he said, his voice thick. “It’s nothing. I’m drunk.”

     Eliza felt tears welling up in her own eyes, and she went over to Alexander, wrapping him up in her arms. Alexander curled into her, pressing his face into her shoulder, letting his tears dampen her shirt. He cried silently, the only indication being the occasional sniffs or trembling intakes of breath. Eliza felt her chin wobble, and rubbed Alexander’s back. “We’ll have a baby,” she said, trying to sound firm and confident, but her voice shook. She cleared her throat. “It’ll happen. Either through natural conception, or IVF, or adoption, or surrogacy – there’s so many options. We’ll have a baby.”

     Alexander nodded. “I know,” he said. “I know. It’s just so hard…”

     “I know,” Eliza whispered. She felt a single tear escape, and she managed a smile. “But hey, that’s what we hired John for, right? That’s why we made this big mess for ourselves.”

     Alexander lifted his head and pulled back to look Eliza in the face. “I guess so, huh?” he said with a laugh. Eliza laughed herself, and wiped the tears from his wet face with her thumbs, cradling his face in her hands.

     “And so far, he’s been doing a great job,” Eliza added.

     Alexander nodded enthusiastically. “A really great job.”

     “And he’ll continue to keep doing a really great job for a while.”

     Alexander sniffed and dragged a hand down his face. “I gotta admit, I’m kinda really looking forward to it.”

     Eliza hummed. “So am I,” she said with a smile that made something in Alexander’s stomach stir. “But right now, I’m really looking forward to getting changed into my pyjamas and going to sleep.”

     Alexander pecked her on the lips. “Baby-making can come later.”

     “It can,” Eliza said, patting her husband on the chest and kicking off her shoes before heading upstairs, Alexander close behind. “And it will. But not tonight.”

     “Thank God John isn’t here to see this,” Alexander said with a chuckle. “He’d run for the hills.”

     “If he'ss anything like you were in college, I’m sure he’s cried over much less,” Eliza said.

     “I don’t really have the energy to argue against that,” Alexander said. They reached the bedroom and started changing.

     “No, you don’t have any material to argue against it,” Eliza said, pulling her shirt over her head and hanging it up.

     “Okay, look– ”

     “Remember that time you called me at four in the morning, sobbing so hard you couldn’t breathe, and it was because you’d spilled your takeout all over the floor?”

     “It was four in the morning, and I was probably hungry,” Alexander said. “And I was probably on my fifth coffee. I couldn’t say for sure; I don’t remember that at all.”

     “You probably blacked out from lack of sleep,” Eliza said with a smile and a fond shake of her head, shedding the rest of her clothes and pulling her pyjamas on.

     “Well, _you_ cried over the fact that we had no Nutella left the other day.”

     “‘The other day’? It was five years ago. And I was on my period. I had cravings.”

     Alexander pouted, and Eliza threw his pyjamas at him. “Don’t give me that face. Just accept that you’re an emotional human being and move on. I certainly have.”

     “Well, aren’t I lucky,” Alexander grumbled, and Eliza smiled, pausing her journey to the en suite bathroom.

     “I know I am,” she said softly.

     Alexander returned her smile. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, so am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a huge thank u to everyone who comments regularly on this, i love u to bits <3 <3 <3


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look i honestly wanted to have another chapter out way before this but then i got glandular fever which means i'm also behind on the first two weeks of my second semester of uni pray 4 me!!!!!!! anyway i hate myself bc this fic is literally over 23000 words and THEY HAVEN'T GOTTEN TOGETHER YET I'M SO SORRY time goes weirdly when u write sporadically as i'm sure many of you know, however NEXT CHAPTER!! is when they finally go on their date i so hope it will be worth the wait i am sorry but anyway here's some more John and Martha bonding bc i'm a sucker for super close friendships but also i just wanted to get something out to u guys so here u go xx

     John inhaled with a shuddering breath, letting his free hand slide across his stomach and up his chest. His other hand – well.

     Behind his closed eyelids, John saw flashes of olive skin and pink lips. He saw the curve of a woman’s hips; a curtain of dark hair falling over her shoulder. He saw the flat planes of a man’s chest and his smile, felt his lips, and John felt the woman’s hands in his hair, and–

     Okay, who the fuck was he kidding, of course he was thinking of Alexander and Eliza.

     How could he not?

     He gasped a little as the memory of Eliza saying his name drifted into his thoughts, and he bucked up into his hand. His thoughts were a jumble, never settling on one concrete image. There he was, buried inside Eliza, but then he was sitting back, watching Alexander fucking her, but then Alexander was fucking John, a mess of sensations and feelings that were oh, so good, and oh, so wrong, all at the same time.

     John whimpered, breathing heavily, feeling himself climbing and climbing, his mind just repeating their names, _Alexander_ , _Eliza_ , _Alexander_ , _Eliza_ , and–

     “John, are you – _oh_ , _oh no_.”

     John’s eyes flew open and he cried out in panic, rolling off his bed in his frantic attempt to find something to cover himself. He hit the floor with his shoulder and he yelped in pain, only barely registering Martha’s yells of, “I’m sorry! I hope I didn’t kill the vibe!” through the door.

     John groaned, clutching his shoulder. “Of course you killed the vibe!” he called back. “What, are you stupid?”

     Martha let herself in again. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were gonna be–”

     “ _I’m still naked, Martha_.”

     Martha whirled around to face the other way, letting out a loud snort or laughter. “And still hard,” she said.

     “Shut up,” John grumbled, sitting up and reaching for his shirt and underwear nearby. “What are you doing barging in my room, anyway?”

     “I just finished up with a client, remember?” Martha said. Once she’d said it, John noticed the signs – the dishevelled hair, the less-than-perfect make-up, the outfit.

     John nodded. _Always know where the other person is_ – that was their most important rule. Apart from ‘no penetration’. “Right. Yeah. Sorry.”

     “If anything, I thought you’d be asleep.”

     John stood up and pulled on his clothes. “You can turn around now. That still doesn’t explain why you would decide to run in here without even knocking.”

     Martha turned around and her eyes immediately dropped to John’s dick in his underwear, and she raised her eyebrows at the fact that he was still half-hard.

     John put his hand in front of his dick and flipped her off, making her laugh. “Shut up,” he said again. “It’s going down. Stop looking at my dick, it’s weird.”

     “Why _aren’t_ you asleep?” Martha said, sitting down heavily on the edge of John’s bed. “We have class tomorrow. It’s, like–”

     “Oh, you’ve decided to make yourself at home, have you?”

     “–four o’clock in the morning. What do you mean? I’m not just–”

     “It’s not even two, don’t–”

     “–about to leave, am I? You weren’t seriously planning–”

     “–be dramatic. What do you mean, what do I mean?”

     “–on _continuing_ , were you?”

     “What? No!” John said, feeling his ears go red.

     Martha gave him a bewildered look, and she laughed. “Oh my God, you were!”

     John glanced at the floor. “I’m just…”

     “Horny.”

     John shot her a look, but didn’t correct her. “I have my… first session tomorrow night. With…”

     Martha nodded in understanding. “Oh, I get it. You’re horny because you’re excited about having a threesome with that married couple.”

     John scowled, but it held no heat. “It’s not like it’s a guaranteed threesome, Mattie. It’s just a–”

     “Date.”

     “ _No_ , it’s just a normal first session, like with any other client. And what about our rule? No–”

     “No penetration, yeah, I know, I was joking. But you’re treating this like a date. You’ve already had your first sessions with them both.”

     “Yes, but not together. That’s different.”

     “And I’m sure I don’t need to remind you how those first sessions ended.” Martha raised an eyebrow. “Judging by what I walked into, you don’t need reminding of that at all.”

     John rolled his eyes. “That was your fault, walking in on me.”

     “Oh come on, it’s not like it hasn’t happened before.”

     “That doesn’t make it okay!”

     “And you’ve walked in on me before, so we’re even.”

     “I really don’t think that’s how it works. There are no winners here.”

     Martha laughed at that. “Okay, yeah, true.”

     John sat on the edge of the bed beside her. “And this – this _thing_ , whatever it is, with Alexander and Eliza?” he continued. “It’s different. It’s… I mean, I’ve never been an escort for two people before, and especially not for a long time like this. I’m feeling way in over my head here.”

     “In dick and pussy,” Martha interjected, making finger-guns at John.

     When John didn’t seem to enjoy her joke, she dropped the finger-guns, and sighed. “Look, John, in all honesty, I think you’re overthinking this. I know you like them, for some reason, but you were _hired_ , not asked out on a date.”

     “Which means they expect me to know what I’m doing.”

     “Well, maybe, yeah, but from what you’ve said, it sounds like they’ve never done this before either. So you’re all in the same boat. They don’t know what they’re expecting. You’ll all be kinda… figuring it out together. And yes, I am also referring to the sex. Because there’ll be two dicks, but, like, one vagina and two buttholes, but there’ll also be three mouths, so the orifice-to-dick ratio will be _way_ off–”

     “Get out of my room,” John cut in.

     Martha held up her hands placatingly, trying to smother her grin. “Sorry, sorry. But you may have to consider that. You know, if you decide to throw our little rule out the window.”

     “Mattie…”

     “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I won’t mention your multiple orifices again.”

     John sighed and stood up to leave, and Martha couldn’t contain her laughter, gripping onto John’s arm. “No!” she cried in between her giggles. “No! No, John, I’m sorry, don’t leave me, I love you, I’m sorry.”

     John shook her off and walked out. “I’m going to go finish masturbating in your room,” he called over his shoulder, and Martha screamed.

     “John Laurens, don’t you dare!” she said, barrelling out of John’s room. “My grandmother made that throw rug!”

     John wasn’t going to continue with the joke, but decided to go along with it, playing off Martha’s overreaction. “I’m gonna be thinking of _Eliza_ and _Alexander_ ,” he moaned, hurrying to her bedroom. “The _old married couple_.”

     He laughed as Martha tried to grab him but he ducked out of the way, slipping into her room and closing the door behind him. “Oh my _God_ , they’re so _hot_ ,” he cried, leaning against the door to stop Martha from following him in. He had to raise his voice so she could hear him over her attempt to break her way in. “They have such stable jobs and promising careers, and they even have a _mortgage_.”

     The banging on the door stopped, and John could hear Martha’s laughter on the other side. He grinned and cracked open the door, watching her double over. “Stable jobs and promising careers…” she choked out.

     John opened the door and leant against her doorjamb, putting the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically. “Oh, yeah,” he moaned, biting his lip. “And they live in a suburb with other married couples. And they’re aspiring to have children. Oh my _God_ , _oh_.”

     Martha couldn’t even breathe, she was laughing so hard.

     John couldn’t help but join in.

     Eventually, Martha got herself under control. She wiped at her eyes. “Oh my God,” she said, still chuckling. “Please don’t tell me you actually find any of that to be a turn-on.”

     “No,” John said, shaking his head. “Jesus. Come on. I like them because they’re super attractive and they have stunning personalities. I’m not a gold-digger.”

     “Does it count as gold-digging if they’re not actually filthy rich?”

     “They’re rich compared to us.”

     Martha considered this, and nodded. “True.”

     “But it’s still not the reason I’m doing this.”

     Martha paused. “You’re doing this because they hired you.”

     “I could’ve said no,” John countered. “But I didn’t. Because I actually like them, Mattie. That’s why I’m so nervous.”

     Martha sighed, wiping underneath her eyes one more time, and clapped John on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine, dude. Don’t stress about it.”

     John huffed. “Yeah, thanks,” he droned sarcastically. “I feel so much better now.”

     There was a pause. John glanced towards his bedroom, and Martha said, “You’re gonna go finish jacking off, aren’t you?”

     “Yeah,” John said.

     Martha gave him another pat on the shoulder as she headed into her own room. “Put a sock on the door next time, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is gonna sound weird but u know how on fics where characters are english/british, fic writers are always like '~oh please correct me if my british slang is wrong i'm not from britain!~' well guess what, idk about other non-american people but i also have that problem with american slang. with sayings and stuff i always have to go 'now is this british or is this american?' bc i'm australian and australians always use a random mix of british and american words/sayings/slang, as well as having our own. it's a mess. so american people, if u read anything i write that sounds a bit off, please tell me! thank


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so glad to finally get this chapter up! i've been slowly making my way through it, amongst the thousand assessments that were due last week and the other fic i (stupidly) decided to start writing (if u like dear evan hansen check it out. or not. sorry i hate it when people promo other fics they've written in chapter notes i'll stop)  
> this chapter is part one of two of The Date (yes it's finally here!!) bc this was getting a little long, but i'll upload part two next week if all goes according to plan!! (when i have i ever stuck to my promises. but i'm just as eager to write it as u are to read it so i will do my best)  
> thank u to all who've gotten this far, i absolutely adore you. hope u enjoy! xx

     To say that all three parties involved were a little distracted on the day of the date – sorry, the _first_ _session_ – would be an understatement.

     Martha was most dismayed to turn up, as per usual, ten minutes before the lecture ended, to find John’s notebook completely blank. John hadn’t even realised he’d gotten completely lost in his thoughts – wondering what he should wear, how he should do his hair, how the hell he would keep himself professional when he was undeniably infatuated with his clients – until Martha had tapped him to get his attention and given him a look.

     Eliza’s mind was on the same wavelength. She hadn’t been on a first date in… God, how long _had_ it been? She and Alexander had met in college, so that was…

     She hadn’t been on a first date in – oh, Jesus. Since she was _John’s_ age.

     And there was another factor to worry about: John was twenty-one. He was still in college.

     But Eliza tried to push that out of mind. John was young, yes, but he was an adult. And this was his job. She was sure he’d probably had older clients than her and Alexander in the past. It was just part of the occupation.

     Still, she couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious about the wrinkles on her face – not that she had many, but they were there – and she sometimes found herself a little preoccupied with trying to figure out how much her boobs had sagged since college.

     Alexander wasn’t handling it any better. He busied himself with work, and double- and triple-checking the restaurant they’d booked, and what kind of parking was nearby, or should they get a can instead, and how long it would take to get there, and should they get there earlier?

     But there was one thought at the back of everyone’s minds – a question that repeated itself. _Am I going to be having sex with two people tonight?_

     And, of course, the natural follow-up question: _How the fuck do threesomes even work?_

     Eliza called Alexander during their lunch break. “Hey, honey, how’s your day been?” she said lightly.

     Alexander considered the question. “Uh, good,” he said, equally lightly. “You know, getting a lot of work done.”

     “As usual, of course.”

     “Yes, of course. As usual. And how’s your day been?”

     “Good.”

     “Good, that’s good.”

     There was a pause. Alexander glanced at the staff around him. “Are you as nervous as I am right now?” he asked in a low voice.

     “Uh, if by ‘nervous’, you mean having a freaking heart attack?” Eliza said, almost in a rush, like she’d been waiting for Alexander to ask.

     “Oh, me too,” Alexander said, his shoulders sagging with relief. He wasn’t alone. “What the fuck are we doing?”

     “What the fuck _are_ we doing?”

     Alexander laughed, and then stopped abruptly. “But you’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

     “Oh, God no,” Eliza said. “No way. Why, are you?”

     “No, not at all. I was just checking.”

     “No. I’m still all in. I’m just super nervous.”

     “Same.” Alexander sighed. “But at least we’re nervous together. John has to stress about this all on his own.” He dropped his voice almost to a whisper when he spoke John’s name, as if, by hearing it, his colleagues would somehow piece everything together.

     “I’m sure he’s not nearly as stressed as we are, honey,” Eliza said. “This _is_ his job.”

     Alexander tried to come up with a rebuttal, but didn’t really succeed. “I know,” he said. “But, I mean, it still must be a little bit daunting, at least.”

     “Maybe,” Eliza said. “Or maybe he does this kind of thing every other week, we don’t know.”

     Alexander shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe we’re dealing with an expert.”

     Eliza laughed. “Maybe we are. We just need to relax. We’re in good hands. I’m sure John knows what he’s doing.”

 

     “ _I’m so fucking fucked holy fuck I have no idea what I’m fucking doing_ ,” John yelled.

     “Don’t yell,” Martha muttered into her beer. “People are staring.”

     “They can get fucked,” John scoffed. He groaned and let his head drop onto his arms, folded on the table in front of him. “Help me, Mattie.”

     “ _I_ don’t know what to do,” Martha said. “Well, I mean, about your little possible threesome problem. But I can offer a temporary solution?”

     John lifted his head. “What?”

     Martha pushed his beer towards him.

     John sighed, and started drinking.

     Martha pulled out her phone. John paid little attention to her typing, until she held her phone out to him, pressing play on the video on the screen. “And I can oh-so-kindly let you use my data to watch threesome porn?”

     John choked on his beer and slammed the phone face-down on the table. Coughing up a lung, he gave Martha a bewildered look. “Are you stupid?” he managed to get out. “We’re in a bar. We’re in public.”

     Martha took her phone back with an unaffected shrug. “Just an idea.” She took a moment to regard the video in front of her, and said. “I’m just gonna go ahead and bookmark this.”

     John took another swig of his beer. Maybe Martha had a point. Not that he thought looking at porn would help, not really. But maybe he could utilise the great and wonderful Internet. Surely there were forums or something online about this? A Wiki page?

     “Gimme your phone,” he said to Martha, holding out his hand.

     “Use your own,” she said.

     “You said I can use your data.”

     “Yeah, for watching porn.”

     “It’s for research.”

     “Is it porn?”

     “No.”

     Martha sucked in air between her teeth. “I dunno…”

     John gave her a look, and she laughed, and handed him her phone. “What research?”

     John gave a furtive glance around him for any prying eyes, and opened up a new window in the private function. He took a deep breath, and then typed, _How to have a threesome_.

 

     “We shouldn’t… I mean, it’s a little presumptuous to expect…” Eliza sighed, letting her arms drop. She’d been holding up another outfit option against herself in front of the mirror. She looked over to her husband, who was buttoning up his shirt, wearing only that and his underwear. She herself was dressed only in her bra and panties, her make-up done, and her hair tied up in a messy bun on the top of her head.

     “What?” Alexander said.

     Eliza shrugged and shook her head helplessly. “I don’t…” She paused for a moment, and then said, “I know I’m not the only one out of us two that’s been wondering for a while if tonight is going to end up with all three of us in a bed.”

     Alexander froze, his cheeks going a little pink. “That _might_ be a fair assumption.”

     Eliza went over to their wardrobe and hung up her dress, picking out another. “But isn’t that a little – well, John never said that that was, y’know, on the table.”

     Alexander frowned. “But he’s an escort, right?”

     “Yeah, he is.” Eliza returned to the mirror, holding up the dress, and decided instead to go for something more casual. And warmer. “But I just think we need to take this time to establish proper ground rules, you know? As much as I’d love to jump into bed with both you, my wonderful husband, and John, the dashing young stallion, I just…” She put the dress away. “We can’t rush into this. This is a big step.”

     “I know,” Alexander said.

     “And I know it’s for the baby,” Eliza added. “Our future baby. That’s why we’re doing this. But it’s still a big thing.”

     Eliza felt arms wrap around her waist and a chin drop onto her shoulder. “Betsey.”

     Eliza’s shoulders sagged, and she leant her head against Alexander’s. “I’m nervous,” she said softly.

     “So am I,” Alexander murmured. “I’m freaking out. But like you said, this is for our future. And it’s for _us_. Look at how much John’s already helped us without even trying. And that’s only when we both met him once. That’s amazing. He’s amazing. You’re amazing. We’re amazing. It’s all amazing, and we’re about to go on a date–”

     “That we paid for.”

     “–with a _very_ nice young man who is _very_ nice to look at and _very_ nice to kiss. So let’s just focus on that right now.” He pressed a kiss to Eliza’s jaw, just underneath her ear, and stepped back. “But you’re right – we should spend this first date setting boundaries. And if you’re going to wear jeans, you should wear that red shirt you bought last month; the one you wore to that work thing that one time, remember?”

     Eliza smiled and nodded. “Oh, yeah! I’d forgotten about that.” She gasped. “And I could wear it with–”

     Alexander’s face lit up. “With your red heels, yes! You’re going to blow John away.”

     “So are you,” Eliza said with a wink. “Wear that cologne I bought you, it smells so good on you.”

     “Good thinking.” Alexander sighed happily. “We’re gonna ace this.”

 

     The restaurant was nice, but not too nice. A good balance between _It doesn’t matter what the place is if we’re getting in a cab soon_ and _One plate of steamed vegetables costs more than my favourite bottle of vodka_.

     Alexander and Eliza were just getting seated when Eliza noticed John stepping into the restaurant, and she sucked in a breath of air, partly from the spike of nerves and the realisation that this was it, this was really happening, and partly because seeing John again in person made her wonder why they hadn’t gone for the _It doesn’t matter what the place is if we’re getting in a cab soon_ venue option.

     “Ooh, mama,” she murmured under her breath, shifting in her seat, her eyes still glued to John.

     Alexander instantly knew what – or who – had caught her eye, and he stiffened. “Is he here?” he asked in a low voice. “Should I– would it be weird to turn around?”

     “Probably,” Eliza whispered. “It’s probably weird that I’m staring.”

     “Yeah, staring is weird. Has he seen you?”

     Almost as if on cue, the waiter gestured to their table, and John’s eyes met Eliza’s. He smiled, and Eliza let out a small noise. “Ooh, mama,” she said again, even weaker.

     Alexander tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear and cleared his throat. Eliza rose as John neared them, and Alexander shot to his feet as well, finally getting to rest his eyes on their date.

     It was a similar outfit that John had worn to his first session with Alexander, but tonight he was instead wearing dress shoes. And his shirt was short sleeved, a button-up, navy blue paisley. How the hell did he pull of _paisley_?

     But he did. He really did.

     John leant over and kissed Eliza on the cheek, and then Alexander. “Hi,” he said.

     “Hi,” Eliza and Alexander replied at the same time.

     There was a pause, and then everyone sat down.

     Eliza’s pulse was beating frantically, her palms clammy. She took a steadying breath, focusing on the menu, extremely aware of the extra body so close to her. Every movement John made sent a spike through Eliza’s blood. She was excited, gleeful, anxious–

     Eliza internally cursed herself. _She_ was anxious; her husband was probably hyperventilating. She glanced up at him over her menu, but he was focused on his own. His cheeks were flushed, and he was chewing on his thumbnail.

     She nudged his shin with her foot, and he glanced up at her. She frowned a little, asking if he was all right, and he smiled a little back, giving her a tiny nod.

     She glanced at John, almost tempted to ask him the same. He tucked his thick, curly hair behind one ear, giving her a nice view of his freckled face, and she realised that the three of them had been sitting in silence, and she was concerned that it was bordering on awkward.

     “What do you drink, John?” she asked, and he looked up at her with his green eyes, and Eliza’s breath was taken away.

     John leant back in his chair, letting out a breath that looked like he’d been holding. “Ah, drink?” he shook his head with a shrug and a laugh. “Literally anything. Gimme your eight dollar-iest bottle of wine.”

     Alexander chuckled. “Classy.”

     “That’s me,” John said. He winced. “Aw, fuck. I’m meant to be working. I’m doing the _shittiest_ job right now.”

     “What do you mean?” Eliza said.

     John cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “I mean…” He rested his elbow on the table as he leant in closer to her. His face relaxed into a slow smile, and his voice dropped a little lower. Eliza felt something stir low in her belly. “I’m on the clock right now, which means I’m meant to be…” He let his eyes wander down her throat, making Eliza’s heart gallop. “…charming you, not sitting here like a nervous wreck.”

     Eliza swallowed. “Well, I think you’re doing a great job,” she breathed.

     “As much as I’m enjoying watching you make my wife fall to pieces with nothing but your hypnotic voice and your attractive face,” Alexander cut in, “and believe me when I say that I am most definitely enjoying that – please don’t put too much pressure on yourself, okay, John? We…” He moved in closer, lowering his voice. “We want you. And you’re working, yes, and, yes, we hired you, but we don’t want you to turn yourself inside out trying to impress us. Because you already have.”

     John blinked in surprise, and then his olive skin went pink. “I… have?”

     “Why do you think we hired you for six weeks?” Alexander said with a laugh.

     John looked a little taken aback. “Oh,” he said softly. His shoulders relaxed, and his nodded. “Um, okay,” he said with a hesitant, but pleased smile. He ducked his head, trying to hide how his smile widened, and Eliza’s heart melted.

     She wanted to kiss him so badly.

     She looked up at her husband, and she saw how Alexander was gazing at John with the same dopey smile on his face that she guessed she was sporting herself.

     Yeah. They’d made the right decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> catch me making those completely unsubtle brooklyn nine-nine references  
> see u next chapter! xx


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahahahahaha oooooops so it's been a liiiiiittle more than a week i'm sorry i have no excuse  
> this chapter turned out longer than i thought it would so guess what? you get a part three of the date next chapter! bc i can't shut the fuck up!!  
> well anyway, hope you enjoy x

     The longer the dinner went on, the more shoulders started to relax and smiles and laughter were given freely. Eliza’s cheeks were lightly flushed for most of the night, and it wasn’t due to the alcohol – she hadn’t even finished her first glass of red before the meals arrived.

     The conversation flowed without pause. John listened with undivided attention as Eliza talked about her job, which turned into complaining about her boss, as it often did. At some point Alexander mentioned that he was deeply interested in politics, and during college had almost transferred over to a Bachelor of Political, Economic and Social Sciences, but he’d stuck with psychology. “I was too far in,” Alexander said with a shrug. “I wanted to see it to the end. I could see myself going into politics, but I could just as easily see myself working in psychology. And then, somehow, I ended up as assistant dean."

     “I have an interest in politics,” John said mildly, moving his chicken around his plate.

     Eliza saw Alexander’s face light up. “Really?”

     John lifted his gaze at the eagerness of Alexander’s tone, and he smiled. “Um, well – don’t get too excited,” he interjected with a laugh. “More, um, political activism. I mean, I don’t do as much as I should, but, yeah, the interest is there.”

     Alexander’s excitement was hardly curbed. “Tell me more,” he said. “What kind of activism?”

     John gestured vaguely. “Y’know, the main stuff. LGBT rights and equality, anti-discrimination… uh, equality for people of colour. That kind of thing.” He made a face. “Like I said, I don’t really do as much as I should. I manage to drag my lazy ass over to the occasional rally, and I, like, correct people when they say stupid stuff, you know? But that’s about it. And–” He snorted a laugh. “–even worse? I don’t nearly know enough about actual politics.”

     Alexander leant in close. “I could teach you,” he said in a low voice that sent sparks up Eliza’s spine. She almost laughed. Of course the idea of being able to discuss politics with someone was a turn-on for Alexander.

     John bit his lip. “Oh yeah?” he said, feigning polite interest. “You… wouldn’t mind?”

     “Not at all.”

     John hummed, reaching for Alexander’s wine glass. “I’ll consider it,” he said, taking a sip. He put the glass back, leaning into Alexander’s personal space as he did so. Alexander’s eyes were dark. Eliza shifted in her chair. She could feel how damp her underwear was getting.

     “Good thing I’m wearing dark jeans,” Eliza said, before realising what she’d just said, and she flushed, covering her face in her hands with a laugh. “Oh my God, that was _too_ much information. I am _so_ sorry.”

     Alexander chuckled. “Honey, you’ve said _far_ worse in public.”

     John reached over and put his hand on her thigh, and Eliza dropped her hands. John’s hand was only just past her knee, but it sent her blood pumping. “It wasn’t too much information,” John said. “It was…” He smirked, and Eliza took a steadying breath. “…a good indicator. If I’m doing my job well enough.”

     “I think we all know that you are,” Eliza said, placing her hand over John’s.

     John held her gaze for a moment, and then sat back, saying, “Still good to know.”

     Eliza and Alexander glanced at each other, trying to smother their grins.

     A thought occurred to Eliza, and she cleared her throat, taking a sip of wine. “Um, John, just before this… goes on any further – we think–”

     “Ground rules,” Alexander said, catching on to what Eliza was about to say.

     “I mean–” Eliza searched for a better term, one that didn’t sound so… She didn’t know what. It just sounded wrong. “Just so we’re all on the same page.”

     John nodded, straightening in his seat. “Of course,” he said.

     “Just because,” Alexander jumped in, “we haven’t really–”

     Eliza nodded in agreement. “A lot can happen–”

     “–discussed what any of us–”

     “–over six dates, and we don’t–”

     “–really want out of this, if–”

     “–want to assume.”

     “–you understand.”

     John nodded again, this time in reassurance. “Right, yeah, of course,” he said. “I was wondering the same thing, actually. I mean, Alexander, you explained kind of what your and Eliza’s… main drive for this whole thing is, but if that’s changed…?”

     “No,” Alexander and Eliza said simultaneously.

     “We still want a baby,” Eliza added. “Very much so.”

     “And we still want you– um, need you to, uh…” Alexander made a random gesture. “Help… us… along.”

     “Turn you on,” John supplied helpfully with a cheeky grin.

     Alexander made a noise in the back of his throat. “Yes, well, we’ve all established that you’re very good at that.”

     “But we just didn’t really get the chance – well, we didn’t even think to ask what _you_ want out of this,” Eliza said. She clicked her tongue. “Well, obviously, we’ve, um, hired you,” she added, sounding a little uncomfortable with saying this. “But we just… Yeah. Ground rules.”

     John took a bite of his chicken, chewing thoughtfully. “Yeah, okay,” he said, and slowed his mouthful. “Ground rules.”

     “Do you have any restrictions with your job?” Alexander asked. “Anything you can’t do?”

     Eliza gave him a look. “ _Honey_ ,” she said, sounding appalled.

     Alexander frowned. “What?”

     “You’re making it sound like you want some kind of weird sex thing,” she said between gritted teeth.

     John laughed.

     Alexander’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no, no, no, no,” he said hurriedly. “Well, I– if you wanted that, I’d wouldn’t say no, but–”

     “Honey, you’re making it worse,” Eliza whispered, but this time through her own laughter.

     “Oh, fuck,” Alexander sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m so sorry, John, I’m a mess.”

     John giggled, patting Alexander’s hand. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said. “I know what you meant.”

     For a moment, he _had_ thought that Alexander had been talking about some weird sex thing, but for that moment, he’d been on board.

     “There’s one rule, kind of,” John said, a little uneasily. “It’s more of an unofficial rule. My frie– um, my _colleague_ and I, we’re, uh, freelancers, I guess you could call us? We don’t work for a company or anything. It’s all pretty casual. So in that regard, no, we don’t have any ‘rules’, per se. But our one rule is, um, no…” John couldn’t look at them, for some reason embarrassed. He’d never been embarrassed about this before. “…penetration.”

     Alexander and Eliza looked at each other, nodding. “All right,” Alexander said simply.

     John looked up. “Just coz, y’know,” he explained quickly, “with– because we’re kinda on our own here, we can’t risk– like, there’s the risk of STDs and whatever. Like, we try to make sure every client is clean, but sometimes you just don’t know, and we don’t have anyone to protect us if something goes really wrong.”

     “You don’t have to explain it,” Eliza said calmly, taking John’s hand and squeezing it. “If it’s a rule, then we’ll abide by it.”

     John took a breath. “Okay.” He didn’t know why he was relieved. If Eliza and Alexander hadn’t respected the rule, then he would’ve had every right to just get up and walk out. He didn’t have to convince them.

     “It’s probably not a bad idea anyway,” Eliza said. “Seeing as I’m off birth control.”

     Alexander leant in a little closer. “That’s assuming, my love,” he said with a tight smile, “that John would be up for sex anyway.”

     Eliza’s face matched her husband’s when he’d made a similar error, and she threw her hands in the air in exasperation. “Well, we’re both just making completely idiots of ourselves tonight, aren’t we?” she said.

     John chuckled. His stomach was alive with nerves, but also excitement. “Maybe that’s something we should discuss,” he said, trying to sound calm and collected. He spread his hands. “I have to admit, I’ve never been on a long-term, um, contract, like this before. My, um, colleague has regulars, but I was never that into it. I just did one-off things. Maybe I’d see the same client twice or three times, but never on a week-to-week basis.”

     Eliza blinked. “Oh,” she said, sounding surprised. “We didn’t… We don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or out of your depth or anything.”

     John shook his head. “It’s unavoidable for me to feel at least a _little_ out of my depth,” he confessed with a chuckle. “But please don’t stress about it.” He thought for a moment, and then continued. “That being said, I do need reassurance from you both that you’re… Well, if we’re going to be doing anything…”

     “We both got tested before we started trying for a baby,” Alexander said. “And neither of us have done anything sexual with anyone else since we got married.”

     Eliza looked to her husband, staring at him for a good moment, and then looked back to John, smiling. “We are well and truly free of anything you’d want to avoid. If you want, we can go back to get checked?”

     John shook his head. “No, I trust you. And, just so we’re clear, I also get checked regularly. I wouldn’t consider putting either of you at risk, especially since you’re trying to have a baby. And it’s a requirement for this kind of job, anyway.”

     “Good,” Alexander said.

     There was a pregnant pause as the realisation of why exactly they were discussing this settled in.

     “So,” Alexander said slowly. “No penetration. Does that mean, um… What exactly does that cover?”

     John snorted a laugh. “It means…” He laughed and shook his head, and then cleared his throat, straightening his shoulders and putting on a serious face. “This is business talk. I have to be serious.”

     Eliza and Alexander sniggered, and John pressed his lips together to stop himself from smiling. “Guys, this is serious,” he whispered, and his dates quickly took the memo, smoothing down their clothing and listening attentively, with only hints of smiles tugging on their corners of their mouths.

     “That means,” John continued, “that I cannot…” He paused, and tried again. “Alexander, you can’t…” He tried to think of a way to phrase it without it sounding hideous, but couldn’t, so he gave up with a sigh and a roll of his eyes. “Alexander, you and I can’t fuck each other, and I can’t fuck you, either, Eliza. But oral sex is not out of the question, now that I know you’re both clean.”

     “So you’d be…” Eliza raised her eyebrows. “…up for that?”

     “I’d be an idiot to turn either of you down,” John admitted with a smile.

     Alexander took a breath in. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. Good. Noted.”

     John’s stomach bubbled again, this time with a flash of more nerves than excitement. “But, um…” He frowned. “Just so you know, I’ve never… I’ve only ever, uh, had one client at a time. I’m sorry if you were expecting some kind of expert, but I’ve never–”

     “Neither have we,” Eliza said. “It’s okay.”

     “I’ve learnt all I could,” John added. “Just– the actual, y’know, _thing_ , I’ve never…”

     “It’s okay,” Alexander said. “We’ll just take it slow.”

 

     They did not take it slow.

     Not even forty minutes later, John found himself stepping into Eliza and Alexander’s home, and finding it just as suburban and innocuous as the first time he’d visited.

     The two people he’d entered the house with, however, were anything but.

     John had never been taken by two people so quickly. He could’ve talked to them forever – but at the same time, he would’ve been perfectly happy to have no talking at all, if it meant that they were busy doing something else.

     Speaking of that _something else_.

     “Did you want a drink of water or anything?” Alexander said as Eliza set her handbag on the kitchen counter.

     John shook his head. “I’m all good.”

     “You should drink some,” Eliza said off-handedly.

     John paused, but said, “All right.”

     Alexander got him a glass and one for himself, and they both sipped at the water while Eliza put her phone on the charger. “I’ll be back,” she called over her shoulder as she disappeared down the hall.

     “Where’s she going?” John murmured.

     Alexander shrugged. “I’ve learnt not to question Eliza. She knows what she’s doing. Most of the time.”

     John finished off his water, and set the glass down on the counter. “So,” he said, sliding closer to Alexander, his head bowed just enough that he could look up at Alexander through his lashes.

     Alexander quickly downed the rest of his glass and also set it aside. “So,” he said in the same voice.

     John raised a hand, toying with the top button on Alexander’s shirt. “You left me pretty high and dry the first time we met,” he said.

     Alexander chuckled. “I can assure you, that was not my intention when I first laid eyes on you.”

     John lifted an eyebrow. “Oh? What was your intention, then?”

     Alexander huffed, smiling, and, wordlessly, drew John in for a kiss.

     John felt a mixture of relief – _finally_ – and renewed energy – _I forgot how good he is_ – shoot through his veins, and he pressed himself even closer to Alexander, curling a fist into his shirt, deepening the kiss. Alexander made a slight sound in the back of his throat, and cupped John’s jaw in his hands.

     John’s tongue met Alexander’s, and their kisses grew hungrier. John gently bit down on Alexander’s lip, tugging on it for a moment, and Alexander shivered. In return, he brought a hand up into John’s hair, tugging, pulling John’s head back, and he kissed John down’s exposed neck.

     John bit his lip to stop himself from making a sound, not wanting to give away how much that affected him. Alexander bit down gently, and John inhaled sharply.

     They were distracted by the sound of heels clicking down the hallway. They slowly pulled apart from each other to see Eliza there, smirking. “I thought I’d find you two getting started without me,” she said.

     “Sorry,” John said, a little breathlessly.

     “I’m not,” Alexander said.

     Eliza laughed, and kicked off her shoes, padding over to them. “Well, if it’s of any interest to either of you,” she said, her hands instantly going to John’s shirt and going about unbuttoning it, “I disappeared to clean the bedroom, which we – mostly you – left in a mess, _Alexander_ , after our small catastrophes of trying to find the right outfits for tonight.”

     Alexander winced. “Sorry.”

     John was focused solely on Eliza’s hands. He swallowed as she reached the last button. “And,” Eliza continued, running her hands down John’s now-bare chest, making him shudder, “I don’t know about either of you…” She leant in and started mouthing at John’s neck. John couldn’t hold back his whimper, and Alexander whispered, “ _Fuck_.” “…but I’d like to put that bedroom to good use.”

     “Yes,” Alexander said instantly. “Bedroom. Now.”

     Eliza pressed a lingering kiss to John’s lips, which John chased when she pulled back, and laid a hand on his chest. “C’mon,” she said softly, and the three of them hurried to the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a hot minute since i've written any smut so we'll see how next chapter goes. stay tuned! x


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M FINALLY BACK!! sorry it's been literally almost two months. normal excuses - uni work, assessments, blah blah. i've had a couple of migraines in the past two weeks as well, and honestly? i was just feeling self-conscious about this chapter bc i don't ~really~ know what i'm writing about, and i want to do this ship justice/don't want to embarrass myself. but anyway, it's done, it's out there, whatever. if it's of any interest to anyone, i've actually already written the epilogue for this (i find that doing so motivates me to get to the end). it's not gonna be for a while yet, but it's planned. i think you'll all like it :)  
> but for now, hope u enjoy this chapter! x

     As soon as they stepped foot into the bedroom, Eliza plastered herself to John, kissing him deeply, licking into his mouth. Alexander busied himself with undressing John from behind, taking off his shirt and dropping it to the ground, and then reaching around his waist to unbuckle his belt. John let it happen, happily focusing on the taste of Eliza’s mouth – the hint of wine on her tongue – and the feeling of her waist under his palms.

     Alexander unbuttoned and unzipped John’s jeans, pressing kisses to the back of his neck, deliberately letting his hand drag over the growing bulge in John’s underwear. John moaned, biting down on Eliza’s bottom lip, and Eliza smiled against his lips.

     “John, get your shoes off,” Alexander murmured in his ear, and John shuddered, and nodded.

     “Honey, let John take his shoes off,” Alexander said, louder.

     Eliza pulled back just enough to say, “No,” and threw her arms around John’s neck, kissing him again.

     John laughed, stumbling slightly, and Eliza kissed along his jaw before letting go. “You have ten seconds to get everything off,” she said with a smile and a wink, before turning to her husband and drawing him in for a kiss.

     “Don’t need to tell me twice,” John said, a little breathlessly. As he scrambled to get undressed, he watched Alexander and Eliza. They moved with purpose, undressing each other, and it was like watching a dance – it had been rehearsed a hundred times over. If John hadn’t known that they were married before, now would have been a dead giveaway.

     It was a little intimidating, to say the least. _Jesus_ , he couldn’t help but think, _how the hell am I going to compete with that?_

     Not that he was competing – he knew that. But how on earth could he be anything but a little awkward, a little left out, a little _young_ , in that harmonious show of pure experience?

     Alexander glanced over at him, and paused, his hands stilled at the hem of Eliza’s shirt, about to pull it over her head. He raised his eyebrows at John’s underwear, which he was still wearing. “I think Eliza said that she wanted _everything_ off.”

     John shoved his doubts out of mind, and went over to them. “I thought it’d be fair to even the playing field a bit first.”

     Eliza hummed and reached out for John, tugging on the band of his underwear and letting it go. It smacked against his skin, and made him jump. “Seems fair,” she said thoughtfully.

     She bit her lip, her eyes still on John’s underwear – and his half-masted erection, tenting his boxers – and moved her hand as if to touch it – John’s skin felt alight with energy at even the thought – but then paused, and looked back to Alexander. “I guess we should get moving, then,” she said.

     Alexander seemed to shake himself out of some kind of daze, and nodded enthusiastically. “Yep. Yep.” He slid Eliza’s shirt off over her head, and let her take off her own jeans and he finished with his own clothing.

     John couldn’t help but grind the heel of his hand into his crotch as he watched his two partners – _two_ of them! – undress, especially when he saw the lacy black panties that Eliza was wearing.

     He waited patiently (somewhat patiently, he wasn’t a saint), until both Eliza and Alexander were down to their underwear, and then–

     He froze.

     “What is it?” Eliza said, seeing his face.

     He just shook his head. “I…” He looked between them. “I want to kiss you, both of you, but I can’t decide…”

     Alexander laughed, and Eliza grinned and said, “I know how you feel.”

     “Let me make the decision for you,” Alexander said, and stepped up close, kissing John. He backed John up until the back of John’s legs hit the bed, and then let go long enough for John to climb onto the bed and lie down, Alexander immediately crawling over him on all fours and continuing where they left off. Alexander slipped a knee between John’s legs, his thigh pressing against John’s crotch, and John ground a little against it.

     John heard a whine, and he broke away, looking over to see Eliza watching, sitting on her knees on the bed, gnawing on her lip.

     “Oh, Jesus, sorry,” John said, worried that she felt like out.

     Eliza shook her head. “Don’t be,” she breathed. “You guys look so good together.”

     “Do you want to touch yourself, honey?” Alexander said, and John shivered.

     Eliza nodded. “Yeah.”

     John _really_ wanted to keep kissing Alexander, but what kind of an escort would he be if he didn’t fulfil his partner’s needs? “Don’t,” he said. He gently nudged Alexander, who immediately sat back. “Let me.”

     Eliza blinked. “I don’t mind–”

     “I want to,” John said. “If you want me to?”

     It was then that the gravity of the question hit him. It was one thing making out with a married couple, but this was another step up. Eliza glanced at her husband, only for a moment, and then nodded. “I want you to.”

     John glanced at Alexander, who leant forward to give him a gentle kiss. “Go get ’em, tiger.”

     John grinned, and Eliza crawled over to them. “Where do you want me?” she said.

     “Lying on your back,” he said.

     “Wait a second,” she said, and reached behind her, unclasping her bra, which she shrugged off and dropped to the ground. “That’s better.” She lay down with a satisfied sigh. “You can take off my panties, though.”

     John sucked in a breath – both in reaction to Eliza’s words, and at the sight of her fucking gorgeous breasts. He heard Alexander have a similar reaction. “Your wish is my command,” he said, and leant down to kiss her. He let his hand travel down her side, feather-light, and he felt her shiver underneath him.

     He was nervous. Well, he’d been fucking nervous the whole time, but it had been a little while since he’d gone down on someone with a vagina. But, damn it, he was an escort, and a good one, and he wasn’t about to let something like oral sex scare him away.

     He started kissing down Eliza’s body, stopping at her breasts, sucking on her right nipple, gently biting it, listening to the sounds of her pleased sighs and heavy breathing and the feeling of her hand in his hair, her fingers absentmindedly scratching at his scalp.

     He took his attention to her left nipple, treating it the same as the right, and then he shifted down the bed, trailing his kisses past her navel and to her hip bone.

     He shifted down a little more, and, carefully placed kisses to the insides of her thighs. He could smell how aroused she was, and his dick jumped in excitement.

     He felt Eliza shift, and he glanced up to see that Alexander had taken up kissing her, playing with her nipples, and she whimpered into his mouth.

     John returned to his task, getting closer and closer to his target, and then he pressed his tongue against Eliza’s soaked panties, making her gasp.

     He continued to lick at Eliza through her panties, every so often delicately taking the fabric between his teeth and letting it snap against her folds, until she was squirming, and then he sat up, helping her out of her panties.

     He couldn’t help but smile when he realised that Eliza was truly naked, and he dropped back down, carefully – waiting for her to stop him if she wanted him to – putting her legs over his shoulders. One more glance up, and John saw that Alexander had taken his mouth to Eliza’s nipples, and she was gripping his hair tightly as he worked.

     “John, please,” she whimpered.

     The sound of her saying his name, like _that_ , was more than enough to spur John on. He dove in, lapping through her dripping folds, keeping an ear out for her moans of approval as he did so. He’d forgotten the bitter, sharp taste of it all, the musky smell, the feeling of it getting on his chin and his nose.

     He allowed his teeth to graze against Eliza’s clit, knowing how oversensitive it would be, and she yelped, making him grin.

     He heard Alexander’s voice. “Does it feel good?”

     “So good,” Eliza replied in a shaky voice.

     “Are you close?”

     “Yeah.”

     “You look so fucking hot right now, Betsey.”

     John moaned, making Eliza cry out, “Oh, I’m close!”

     John added a finger, crooking it just so, pumping in and out, and Eliza moaned, and it wasn’t long before John added a second finger. He doubled his efforts at the sound of Eliza panting and moaning, and then her fist was in his hair, and he groaned, low and deep, and then he felt Eliza spasming around his fingers, and she convulsed, letting out a high-pitched, “Ah!” John carried her through the orgasm, feeling the tension leak from her body, shuddering every so often.

     When he felt that she had had enough, he kissed the inside of her thigh, and wiped his nose and chin on the back of his hand. He moved up her body on all fours, and kissed her deeply. “How was that?” he asked with a grin.

     Eliza gave him a roll of her eyes and a smirk. “I think you know _exactly_ how that was.”

     “Happy to be of service,” John said, kissing her once more.

     He then turned his attention to Alexander, who was most definitely hard in his boxers. “Your turn?”

     “Not for me,” Alexander said, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him closer. “Get your underwear off.”

     John laughed. “You don’t have to do that, Alexander, I’m here for _you_.”

     “And I want to hear what you sound like when you come,” Alexander said. “And see your face, although I may be a little busy for that.”

     “I can let you know,” Eliza said, her voice deep, and smooth like honey, still riding her post-orgasm high.

     “Hmm,” John said, pretending to think it over. He sighed and shrugged, rolling his eyes. “I _guess_. If you _must_.”

     “You’re such a little shit,” Alexander said with a laugh, and kissed him, immediately deepening the kiss – the aim clearly was to make John hot and bothered, but he didn’t need to do _anything_ for that. He rubbed at John’s cock over his boxers, and John’s hips jerked, and he let out a strangled moan.

     “Underwear,” Alexander growled, “ _off_.”

     John hurried to obey, chucking his underwear across the room, and Alexander climbed off the bed. John followed him, sitting on the edge.

     “Honey,” Eliza called, climbed off the bed, walking over to them, dropping a pillow next to Alexander as she passed. “For your knees. They’re not as young as they once were.” She settled on a pillow of her own, her back against the wardrobe door, watching them.

     Alexander snorted. “Gee, thanks.”

     “It’s all the cock-sucking you did in college and high school,” Eliza said casually. “I told you, it was gonna catch up with you sooner or later.”

     Alexander rolled his eyes, but he smiled, and placed the pillow under his knees.

     John’s mouth was a little dry. “Uh, high school?”

     “Don’t worry, nothing sketchy,” Alexander said casually, lightly tugging on John’s dick, making him gasp. “It was other boys my age. Maybe a year or two older. And I only started when I was sixteen, anyway.”

     “Oh,” John said, trying to nonchalant, but failing. The thought of eighteen-year-old Alexander, pulling boys in his grade behind the school bathrooms or into empty classrooms, dropping to his knees–

     And then Alexander’s mouth was on his cock, and John hissed out, “Oh, Jesus.”

     He twisted his hands in the sheets, letting his head fall back. He’d already been worked up by going down on Eliza, so he knew – embarrassingly – that he wasn’t going to last _too_ long; not unless he did something drastic, like think about his psychology lecturer or something.

     Alexander may have been married to a woman with a vagina for many years, but, boy, John wouldn’t have guessed, with the way Alexander was going to fucking town on him.

     John looked over to see Eliza pleasuring herself as she watched the scene before him, her face flushed, and that certainly didn’t help with the whole not-coming-too-early thing.

     Alexander paused for a second to drag the flat of his tongue across the tip of John’s cock, and John almost came from that. “Oh, God,” he choked out. His chest was heaving, and he could feel his heart racing. “Fuck, Alexander.”

     Alexander just smiled up at him. “Not too shabby for an old man, huh?”

     “Oh, shut up, you’re thirty-f–oh, oh, _fuck_.”

     John let his head fall back, moaning obscenely, trying to stop his hips from thrusting forward – he failed once or twice, but Alexander just took it in stride – and wondering how the hell he got so damn lucky that these two people chose him.

     “Ale–” John cut himself off, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his lips together to stop himself from letting out what would most have definitely been the fucking _ugliest_ noise as Alexander did something absolutely divine with his tongue. He tried again. “Alexander, I’m gonna come soon. Like, really soon.”

     Alexander kept going, pumping his fist in time with his head bobs, and John could feel his body coiling. “Alex– Alex, I’m coming–” The pitch of his voice was climbing higher, and his eyes were closed tightly, “–I’m coming, I’m coming, oh–” And then he came, hard, thrusting forward. Alexander jerked a little in surprise, but swallowed, lapping at John’s cock until John was whining.

     John opened his eyes just as Eliza came for the second time, her voice muffled by her tightly-closed lips. She panted through the aftermath, smiling at John, her eyes hooded. “Should’ve gotten that on film,” she said.

     Alexander looked over his shoulder, grinning at her. “I’d watch it.”

     “Of course you would, you’re obsessed with yourself.”

     John raked his hands through Alexander’s hair, getting his attention. “What about you?” he said.

     “Well,” Alexander said, “if it’s all right for you, I think I’d like to fuck Eliza.”

     Eliza quirked a brow. “If it’s all right for John?”

     “And you, naturally,” Alexander said. “But John is our guest.”

     “I’m less of a guest and more of a plaything at this point,” John said with a smile. “Don’t let me stop you.”

     “Don’t let us stop you from watching,” Eliza said, getting to her feet. She took Alexander’s hand, helping him up, and said, “I know – John, why don’t you choose what position we do?”

     John’s eyes went wide. “Oh, wow, I wouldn’t want to–”

     “I’m on board,” Alexander said. He cupped John’s cheek in his hand. “Up to you.”

     John had suddenly forgotten every sex position ever. “Uh…”

     “Only if you want to,” Eliza added.

     “Just, um… let me think on it. For, like, a minute. You know how, when you’re put on the spot, you suddenly can’t remember…?”

     “Sure,” Eliza said with an easy smile. “We’ll occupy ourselves while you think of something.” She immediately turned to her husband and kissed his neck. Alexander closed his eyes and let his head tilt back without question, one hand caressing her back and the other playing with her nipple.

     Eliza must have bitten down on Alexander’s neck, because he sucked in a breath sharply and bit his lip.

     John was so mesmerised by the whole scene that he completely forgot his job – that is, until Eliza decided to stroke Alexander’s cock, and Alexander let out a groan and said, “Fuck, any updates, John?”

     John blinked, his mind once again going into a whirl. “Guh…”

     Eliza pulled away from Alexander, looking over to John. “Please don’t feel like you have to. You can save it for next time.”

     John broke out into a smile. “Next time?”

     Eliza raised her eyebrows at him as Alexander continued to pet her. “Oh, honey,” she said. “Of course there’s going to be a next time. We have so much more exploring to do.”

     John shivered in excitement. “I just want to see what you guys like,” he said. “So I have a base to go off.”

     Eliza looked back to her husband. “He has no idea what he’s getting himself into,” she said with a laugh.

     “Maybe let’s just start with the basics?” Alexander suggested.

     Eliza nodded. “Let’s not scare him.”

     “It’d take a lot to scare me,” John said. “This kinda thing _is_ my job.”

     Eliza considered this, and shrugged a shoulder. “I guess we’re gonna have to find something that’s wild enough to scare you, then.”

     John grinned. “Bring it on.”

     Eliza grinned back, and said to Alexander, “One minute, honey,” before heading over to John, nudging him further up the bed. She went on all four above him, and kissed him deeply. John responded in kind. He could feel his dick starting to harden again.

     Without even thinking, John raised a hand underneath her, and started fingering her, moaning at the feeling of how wet she was.

     Eliza shuddered, and kissed him harder, slowly starting to buck into his hand. She broke the kiss just long enough to whisper hoarsely, “ _Fuck_ ,” and John slipped two fingers into her. Eliza pressed her forehead into John’s shoulder. “Jesus Christ,” she moaned. “Oh, God, John, if you didn’t have that rule I’d have you fucking me until I couldn’t walk for three days.”

     John’s eyes widened, and he looked over to Alexander, who was watching with such rapture that his mouth was almost watering.

     Alexander noticed John looking, and he nodded vigorously. “Agreed,” he said. “I’d want you to fuck her until she couldn’t walk for three days, _and_ me.”

     John let out a laugh. “Lucky me,” he said. He paused his ministrations, taking his hand away, and Eliza cried out in disdain.

     She raised her head to squint at him accusingly, and John slipped his fingers into his mouth, sucking and licking at them. “I think you have a husband to attend to,” he said.

     Eliza grabbed his hand and shoved it away, pinning it to the bed, and kissed him hungrily, biting at his lip. She lowered her pelvis, and ground against his half-erect cock, and John let his mouth fall open in a gasp.

     Eliza dragged her dripping folds across his cock until he was most definitely hard, kissing him until his lips felt swollen and tender, and only then did she pull away, letting his wrist go.

     She sat up, sitting back on John’s thighs. “Alexander,” she called. “You can fuck me now.”

     John closed his eyes, laughing at Eliza’s teasing.

     Alexander obeyed immediately, giving her room for her climb off John. “Just missionary?” he said.

     Eliza thought about it for a moment. “For tonight, yeah,” she said, lying down on her back, right next to John.

     Alexander reached into their bedside drawer and grabbed some lube, slicking himself up, and then went back over to Eliza, who was reaching for him.

     He hovered above her, kissing her, and slipped his fingers into her, making sure that she was stretched enough. Eliza nodded, and then Alexander lined himself up and slowly pushed into her.

     John’s eyes were wide. All of this was happening right beside him. He wasn’t sure what to do, but then Eliza’s hand scrabbled for his, and he took it. It was almost too intimate for… for what? A first time? A threesome? John had no idea.

     Alexander started thrusting into Eliza, and Eliza bit her bottom lip, smiling, closing her eyes. Alexander smiled too, and glanced at John. “Isn’t she beautiful?” he panted, his hair coming lose of his ponytail and framing his face in a gorgeous frazzled mess.

     John looked to Eliza, whose grin widened at the compliment, but she didn’t open her eyes. “Of course,” he said. “So are you.”

     Alexander managed a chuckle, and then dropped his head, grunting as he drove into Eliza, and Eliza gasped, letting go of John’s hand to grab at Alexander’s back.

     John sat up, unsure again of what his role in all of this was. Did he just watch? Did he leave? Was he there as some kind of morale booster?

     “John,” Eliza said, her voice catching slightly. Her mouth opened in a silent ‘O’.

     “Yeah?” John said.

     “ _Oh_ , kiss me, kiss– _oh_ God.”

     John took a breath and lay back down. Alexander sat back a bit, moaning at the shift in position, and Eliza reached out for John, pulling him in.

     She kissed him, and John had to admit that there was something really hot about making out with someone when he could feel them pulsing, moving with each thrust.

     Eliza whimpered into his mouth, one of her hands going to her clit, as Alexander kept up his pace.

_This is insane_ , John thought to himself, and he almost laughed. He felt a hand on the back of his neck and he pulled back, sitting up, as Alexander drew him in for a kiss of his own.

     “Fucking hell, you guys are hot,” Eliza breathed, and Alexander’s rhythm stuttered.

     “John, pull his hair,” Eliza said, and John slid a hand up the back of Alexander’s neck, getting a firm grip on his hair before tugging sharply, and Alexander cried out, looking almost pained. “If you do that again,” he managed to get out, stilling his hips, “I will come.”

     John didn’t know whether he was in trouble or if this was a good thing, but Eliza answered for him. “As soon as I come, John,” she said, “pull his hair.”

     John chuckled. “Sound good to you?” he said to Alexander.

     Alexander gave him a wry smile that went straight to his dick. “As soon as Eliza comes, you can do whatever to me,” he said.

     John nodded wordlessly, unable to think of anything to say in response, and Alexander focused back on Eliza, pumping in and out of her. John watched the muscles in his back move under his olive skin, watched how his skin shined with sweat. He chewed on the inside of his lip. He wanted to feel Alexander inside him, wanted to bite down on his shoulder, wanted to feel Eliza’s hands on him as her husband fucked him into the mattress–

     “Keep going, honey, come on,” Eliza begged, and Alexander bent down to kiss her briefly.

     “How close are you?” he asked.

     Eliza moaned. “Close.”

     “What do you want? Tell me.”

     “I… I…”

     “Betsey, c’mon.”

     “John, I want John.”

     “John?”

     John moved closer. “Yeah?”

     “John, kiss me,” Eliza said. “Kiss me again.”

     John nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

     She sat up a little this time – Alexander pausing, adjusting, before continuing – and John cupped Eliza’s face, kissing her, licking into her mouth, and she trembled and gasped.

     He kissed her and kissed her as she climbed closer and closer to completion, even when Alexander had to stop for a minute and grip his cock at its base so he didn’t blow his load early. John kissed her, down her neck, gently biting at her skin and her lips, until he felt her hand tighten around his wrist, and she tensed, letting out a whimper into his mouth – Alexander groaning deep as he felt her flutter around him – and she nodded against him, still kissing him, until she let him go.

     John immediately went to Alexander, kissing him, and pulling on his hair, hard, and he came with a muffled curse against John’s lips.

     John pressed a final kiss to Alexander’s lips, gentle, half-hidden in a smile, and sat back.

     Alexander leant down to give Eliza a soft kiss of his own, pulling out as he did so, and Eliza wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “Whoa,” she said, and the two guys laughed.

     “Yeah,” John said.

     “That was something else, without a doubt,” Alexander said. He sighed. “God, I’m exhausted.”

     “Do you want a shower, John?” Eliza offered.

     John was suddenly struck with a problem. Was that an invitation to sleep over, or did he go home? “It’s fine,” he said hesitantly. “I can shower at home.”

     “Are you sure?” Alexander said. “You’re more than welcome.”

     John waved his hands. “No, really, it’s fine. I’ll let you two get to bed.”

     Alexander and Eliza exchanged a glance. “We’d feel bad just kicking you out like you were some one-night stand,” Alexander said.

     John chuckled. “You’re not,” he said, standing up and gathering his clothes together. “Because we all know that I’m not a one-night stand.”

     “You’re absolutely not,” Eliza agreed, sitting up.

     John started pulling his clothes on with practiced speed. “Text me about next week,” he said. “Times and whatever.”

     “We will,” Alexander said.

     “And if there’s anything you want me to do, or to prepare, let me know in advance and I’ll see what I can do.”

     “Sure thing.”

     “Or if there’s anything you’d like me to change, or do differently, or if you–”

     “John.”

     John stopped, halfway through putting on his second sock, his shirt hanging open. Alexander grabbed his underwear and tugged it on, and then went over to John, taking his hand. “Did you have fun?” Alexander asked.

     John nodded. “Yeah,” he said, with utmost sincerity. “Did you?”

     “I did,” Alexander said. “I really enjoyed tonight. All of it.”

     “I did too,” Eliza said. “And although we… we realise that this is your job, John – it’s important to us that you’re into all of it, too.”

     John looked to her, and smiled. “I had fun,” he said. “Honestly. I had a great night. And I’m looking fun to spending time with both of you again.”

     Alexander and Eliza beamed. “Good,” Alexander said. He squeezed John’s hand before letting it go. “Good,” he said again. “I’ll, um, call you a cab.”

     John put on his sock, frowning. “No, no way, I’ll just catch an Uber.”

     “It’s no trouble.”

     “Seriously.” John took his phone out of his back pocket, and called for an Uber. He showed his phone to Alexander. “See? Already on the way.”

     Alexander rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

     John finished getting dressed, tying up his shoes. As he sat on the edge of the bed to do so, Eliza slid over, resting her chin on his shoulder. “You were great, by the way,” she said.

     John smiled, and turned his head to kiss her. “You too.” He looked to Alexander. “And you. It may not be my place to do so, but I can’t see why you two had any trouble in the first place, if you fuck like that.”

     “We just needed you to remind us,” Alexander said.

     “And we need you to maybe remind us a little more,” Eliza added.

     John quirked an eyebrow. “Well, I’m here to help.”

     Eliza put her hand on his jaw to turn her head to him again so she could kiss him once more.

     John checked his phone. “The Uber’ll be here in two minutes, I should stand out the front.”

     “Okay,” Eliza said. “See you next week.”

     “Looking forward to it,” John said as he stood up.

     “I’ll walk you to the door,” Alexander said, throwing on his dressing gown.

     Their fingers brushed as they wandered to the front door, and then it was time to go.

     “Thanks for this,” John said.

     “No,” Alexander said. “Thank _you_. Don’t even think about thanking us.”

     “Thank you for paying for dinner, at least.”

     “Well, we had to sweep you off your feet somehow.”

     “You both already managed to do that with your mouths.”

     Alexander laughed, and kissed John. “I’ll text you.”

     “Please do.”

     And then John let himself out, stepping out into the brisk night air. His Uber pulled up, and he climbed in.

     He took out his phone and messaged Martha.

_Hoooooooooly fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgot to mention - i haven't really read through for typos, so let me know if you spot any, or any continuity errors! x


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